


The Lady and the Crow

by sassycrisps



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 16:27:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 27,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3735733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassycrisps/pseuds/sassycrisps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of fluff pieces that follow my Warden and Zevran's romance. The plot outside their relationship isn't deeply explored.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ambushed

**Author's Note:**

> I loved that in Inquisition, we could play as a Dalish mage, so I've fashioned my Warden in a similar way and her origins follow the basic story line that a Dalish warrior/rogue went through.

“Oh, thank the Maker you’ve come. They’ve attacked the wagons.” The woman appeared out of nowhere, her face pale with fear. My fingers itched to pull my staff off my back, but I figured brandishing a glowing stick at a frightened woman probably wouldn’t help the situation. “Please help,” she called, already turning to run back to the carnage.

Alistair glanced at me, all puppy eyes, and I sighed and rolled my own eyes. “Let’s go,” I said to the woman.

“I’ll take you to them.” She ran, leaving us to follow.

“If we die,” I growled at Alistair. “I swear by the Creators I will come for you in the afterlife.”

He shot me a grin as he unsheathed his sword, but didn’t say anything. As we came around the corner, we saw several overturned carts and a dead cow. The woman had slowed, then stopped when she reached a blonde elf with a wicked looking tattoos on his cheek. The woman trailed her hand over his shoulders and the terror on her face changed into a self satisfied smirk.

“Fenedhis,” I hissed under my breath. “We are so going to die.”  
Before Alistair could shoot back a smart remark, the elf pulled two long knives off his back, a nasty gleam in his eyes. “The Grey Wardens die here.” His accent was thick and very Antivan.

Alistair’s smile had fallen from his face, but he charged forward to meet the ambushers.

I swore again then said, “Morrigan, cover that idiot. Leliana, get the archers.” More men had poured out from behind the rocks and we found ourselves dangerously out numbered. The archer and my fellow mage sprung into action, doing as I had asked. Leliana ducked into cover and began to fire arrows. Morrigan shifted into a massive spider and scuttled forward, overwhelming an man that was about to plunge a short sword into Alistair’s back. He was doing battle with two men and was smiling fiercely.

As I was looking at the battle, I’d forgotten about the blonde assassin and the woman who had lead us to the ambush. This changed when she threw a spirit blast at me, knocking me back a few steps and leaving me breathless. I heard her cackle over the sounds of the fighting and my lips curled into a snarl. Bitch. My hand lashed out and I hit her full in the face with a lightening bolt of my own. She shrieked and it was my turn to laugh.

“It is a shame I must kill suck a lovely creature,” said an unfamiliar voice behind me. I whirled around and struck instinctually. The blonde elf laughed and dodged my attack, his blades already drawn. His leather armor was light, allowing him to move freely and quickly around me. I had little experience defending myself against blades, but cast a spell that turned my skin into stone. As one of his blades fell towards my head I raised my arm and caught the knife on my forearm. Metal sparked against stone and the assassin’s smile grew and I smiled as well. Despite the fact he was trying to kill me, I could see how he might be devastatingly charming.

“We could always talk about this,” I said to him, then dodged a stab. “Perhaps over drinks.” I hit him with a spirit blast and pushed him backwards.

Instead of taking offense at my attack, he chuckled. “As pleasurable as that might be, Grey Warden. I’m afraid I have a contract to fulfill.”

“Such a pity.” I lashed out with a stone encased fist and caught him in the chest, then lunged out with an equally solid foot and landed a hit between his legs. His eyes widened with shock. “It’s rare I meet another elf with such a charming accent.” I stepped forward and knocked him upside the head with my staff. His eyes rolled back and he collapsed in an unconscious heap.

I turned to assist the rest of my companions. Leliana was having some issues with the archers and they had Alistair pinned down behind the over turned cart. Morrigan pitched a lightening bolt over her head and knocked down one of them. I aimed my staff at the other one and hurled a stone fist. It slammed into him and threw him against the hill behind the archers. I heard the audible sound of bones snapping and the man fell and didn’t rise.

In short order, we took care of the rest of them. The female mage who had lead us into the trap had been decapitated by one of Morrigan’s scything pinchers and when she shifted back into her human form, blood was smeared across her mouth. I felt ill and turned my back as she wiped the blood away with the back of her hand.

“They knew we were Gray Wardens,” Alistair said thoughtfully, looking around at the carnage. “Someone obviously wants us dead.”

I shot him a bland look. “Three guesses who.”

“Loghain.” My fellow Gray Warden’s hands curled into tight fists as rage took hold of his features.

I softened and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get him, Alistair.” The blond assassin groaned and I looked at him. “But first I want some answers.” I stalked across the field and nudged the elf with the end of my staff. He groaned again and rolled on to his back. One of his hands came up, covering his eyes.

“Oh,” he managed and tried to sit. This brought out a fresh wave of groans.

I tapped him on his head with my staff. “Up you get, sunshine. I’ve got a few questions that need answers.”

The elf flopped back on to the ground and balefully opened one eye. “I rather thought I’d wake up dead,” he said, then opened the other eye. “Or not wake up at all, as it were.” He examined me carefully, then looked at my other companions, who had gathered behind me. “So, my dear Grey Warden, am I to be summarily executed for my misdeeds?” His lips quirked up in a devilish smile. “Or am I to serve some other purpose.”

I rolled my eyes. “It all depends on your answers to my questions, I suppose.” I glanced at Morrigan over my shoulder. She still had some blood on her lips. “And if my friend here is feeling hungry for some elfin meat.” Morrigan wolfishly grinned at the elf, showing all her teeth.

The elf paled at that, though to his credit, he kept up his smile. “There are worse things in this world than being devoured by a beautiful woman.”

“She’d be a giant spider when she’d do it. Rather less appealing I’d think,” I said.

“Indeed.” The elf sighed and leaned back on his elbows. “Ask your questions, Gray Warden.”

“Who are you working for?”

“I am one of the Crows,” he said, then waited for realization to dawn on my face. When it didn’t, he looked surprised. “You do not know of the Crows?”

“Large, feathery creatures, yes? One of them stole my lunch once,” I said, keeping a straight face.

“The Crows are a group of assassins based out of Antiva,” Leliana said and I looked around at her. She shrugged. “I told you I was not always a Sister.”

The elf’s smile broadened. “Another beautiful companion.” He winked at me. “Your little group must get no sleep at all, Grey Warden.”

“It is rather difficult between all the orgies,” I said and tried not to laugh when Alistair choked behind me.

The elf, however, threw back his head and laughed. “You have a quick tongue for a Dalish. They are usually so serious.”

“You must not know many Dalish,” I said. “We’re quite a jocular bunch.”

“Then perhaps I have been spending time with the wrong people,” he answered.

“Perhaps. Now I believe you have more questions to answer.” He waved his hand for me to continue. “So you’re an Antivan assassin, but who hired you?”

“One Arl Rendon Howe,” he said.

I raised an eyebrow. “You are quick to give up the name of your employer. Have you no loyalty?”

“Oh, I am a very loyal person,” the elf said. “Until someone expects me to die for my failures."

“You are expected to die?”

“It is the ways of the Crows. Should you not succeed in an assassination, it is because you are dead. If you are not, the Crows will hunt you down until this is rectified. I failed in killing you, so my life is now forfeit.”

“I’m very broken up about that,” I said.

“I am sure,” he said, then continued. “Howe and an angry looking man named Loghain, I believe, hired the Crows to get rid of the last Grey Wardens.”

I felt Alistair stir behind me, but ignored him. “Did they tell you why?”

The elf shrugged. “I assumed it was because you threaten their power, yes. That is what most things are about.”

I glanced back at my companions. “This will make everything far more difficult. Loghain has a far reach.”

“Indeed,” Leliana said thoughtfully. “But not impossible.”

“We will succeed no matter what,” Alistair growled. “If we must take Loghain’s head, then all the better.”

“If I may,” the elf said, interrupting them. “I have a preposition.”

I crossed my arms. “Do tell.”

“You need someone who is well versed in the ways of subterfuge and the Crows. Someone like that could be very useful, yes?”

“Someone like you?”

“I do not think you’ll find many other Crows volunteering.”

I pursed my lips as I considered it. The elf was charming, certainty, and I’d seen his skill in battle, but I wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t burry a knife in my back the moment I was asleep. “What ensures our safety?” I asked. “What’s to stop you from betraying us?”

“I want to live,” he said simply. “And I am not all that eager to return to the Crows. You seem the type of woman who could give them pause. You protect me, I protect you.”

“You have no love for the Crows?”

“I was sold to them when I was a boy of eight,” the elf said. “At quite a good price, or so I was told. So, no, I do not hold a special place for them in my heart.”

“What could you do, should I accept your offer?”

The elf smiled at this. “You’ve seen me fight, Grey Warden. I am also quite adept with poisons and other skullduggery. I could also shine armor, should you need it, or simply stand around and look pretty.” His eye darkened a shade. “Or warm any beds that need warming.”

“I see modesty is not a tool in your repertoire,” I said, ignoring his comment about bed warming. Idly, though, I was curious what he could do with those long fingers.

“I am bargaining to save my life,” he said. “Now is not the time for modesty.”

“A fair point.” I chewed on my lip as I examined him. No doubt he would be trouble, but we needed all the help we could get. “Very well, I accept your offer.”

“What?” Alistair looked shocked. “We’re taking the assassin with us now?”

“Would you like to kill him?” I asked, and stepped to one side. “If so, be my guest.”

Alistair’s eyes narrowed. “Fine.” He shot a death glare at the elf. “But if he so much breathes wrong, I will not hesitate.”

The elf winked at him. “Getting to know you should be fun.” Alistair blanched, then glared at the ground. I offered the elf a hand and he took it and got to his feet. “The name is Zevran, by the way,” he said. He bowed slightly. “Zevran Arainai.”

“I am Leliana,” the archer said, “It will be good to travel with you, Zevran.”

“Indeed,” he said, and looked her over carefully.

The smile fell from her face. “Or perhaps not.”

I introduced Morrigan and Alistair, both of whom were chilly towards our newest companion. “And I'm Skye.”

Before I could blink, Zevran captured one of my hands in his own and brushed a gentle kiss across my knuckles. “A pleasure,” he said.

I withdrew my hand. “That remains to be seen.” I waved the group forward and the three of them walked past us, all of them shooting the elf uncomfortable looks. Zevran moved to follow, but I slammed my staff into the ground in front of his feet, stopping him. He looked at me over his shoulder, one eyebrow arched elegantly.

His eyes, which were the color of an expensive whiskey, flashed. “Was there something you wanted, Warden?”

I stepped closer to him, and though he stood several inches taller than me, looked him right in the eye. Magic sparkled on my fingers. “I have decided to let you live, for now.” I raised one of my hands and made sure he could see the lightening crackling there. “But should you do anything that brings harm to one of my companions, I will personally see to your end. Are we clear?”

“Of course.” He bowed again. “I am your man, without reservation. This I swear.” He held out a hand. “After you.”

Without flinching, I walked past him, picking up my pace to catch up with my companions. I heard Zevran follow as a moment later and smiled grimly. This should prove interesting.

*****

            Zevran watched the young woman walk away from him, dark hair tied in a knot at the base of her neck. She was tall and slender and the tips of her delicate ears were visible through her thick hair. When he had fought her, her eyes had shone like starlight, a bright silver gray. Her skin was well tanned and freckles ran over her nose and cheeks. His lips curved up in a smile. She was beautiful yes, but she was a wild beauty, one he wouldn’t mind seeing unbound.


	2. Practice

With my back pressed against a tree, my chin on my knees and my arms wrapped around my legs, I focused hard on a dry leaf that sat several feet away from the tips of my toes. It had become increasingly obvious that my fire spells were abysmal and my focus often resulted in things getting set ablaze that I would prefer not to. So, Wynn had set me to practicing after I had set the hems of her robes alight while trying to get a fire going. The leaf, however, was not cooperating. My eyes narrowed as I glared at it. This failed to improve results.

“Fenedhis,” I snapped and lashed out with my hand. The leaf froze into a solid block of ice, which quickly began to melt in the hot, noonday sun. I watched this for a time, trying to master my irritation. Magic had always been easy for me and Keeper Marethari had been exceedingly pleased with my quick progress. Fire, however, had never been something that had been natural. Perhaps it had something to do with living in the forest and the innate fear that any stray spark could set my home ablaze. Perhaps there was just wasn’t any fire in my blood. Either way, my failure was irksome, especially when Wynn and Morrigan could both easily summon balls of flames in the palms of their hands. 

I growled low under my breath and forced my will towards the leaf. Most of the ice had melted now and for a moment, I thought I saw a wisp of smoke. Then it was gone and I sunk back into the support of my tree.

“I would hate to have that sort of anger directed at me.” The smooth Antivan accent drifted down from above and my eyes darted upwards. The elf, Zevran, was perched in the branches of a yew, looking for all the world like a cat basking in the sun. His blonde hair was tied neatly back, tattoos on full display and there was an easy smile on his face. My irritation surged again, so I refocused on my leaf. As much as I didn’t trust him, I didn’t really want to set the assassin on fire. I heard a soft thump and then the fall of footsteps as he approached me. I kept my eyes fixed on the leaf, ignoring him even as he crouched beside me.

“Is something supposed to be happening?” he asked and I nearly zapped him. Fire might have been hard, but lightening was as natural as breathing.

“Was there something you wanted?” I said stiffly.

“Not particularly, no.” I felt him shift to sitting. He leaned back against my tree and stretched his legs out in front of himself. “But is a beautiful day, no?”

“Gorgeous,” I ground out.

He let out a long, contented sigh. “It would be a shame to waste it with such a terrible expression on your face.”

“You are not as charming as you think you are,” I said, taking deep breaths through my nose. My irritation was draining away and I allowed myself a small smile. “I wonder where all this confidence came from.”

He chuckled quietly. “You should not lie, Warden.”

“What, pray tell, am I lying about?”

“You think me very charming.” He smirked. “But do not feel bad, everyone thinks this.”

I blew out my lips with a long rush of air. “Think what you wish if that makes what you feel better.”

I felt him shift again and then his lips were brushing over my ear. “But I find your thoughts so much more intriguing, especially the ones that you will not admit to having,” he whispered.

My head turned so that we were nearly nose to nose. “You’re cute, Zevran, but not that cute.” I turned away from him and focused on my leaf.

He was still for a moment, then he chuckled again. “I have always enjoyed the chase, Warden.”

“You wouldn’t be able to keep up.” I rocked onto my feet and left Zevran sitting by the tree. As I passed my leaf, it burst into flame. The elf laughed behind me and my fingers balled into fists.


	3. Lessons

I awkwardly held the blade in my hand. It felt odd after wielding a staff for so long. The sprit in the phylactery had granted me the knowledge of how to bind my spells to a blade, but the leather bound handle still felt unwieldy. I swung the sword experimentally while Garrou watched, tongue hanging out as he panted in the heat.

“You must spread your legs,” Zevran said as he stepped out from behind a tree.

I raised my eyebrows. “I beg your pardon.”

“You legs,” he walked slowly around me. “They should be wider, otherwise you’ll be off balance.” He came back around to face me, a small smirk on his face.

I stabbed the blade in to the earth and crossed my arms. “Did you want something?”

“I would prefer not to see you stabbed by anyone save myself,” he said, his eyebrow twitching up. I rolled my eyes but let him continue. He ran a thumb over his lower lip as he eyed me. “I would be willing to show you the basics of combat, should you wish.”

I opened my mouth to reject him, then thought better of it. If anyone could teach me the basics of sword play, it would be him, especially because I wouldn’t be wielding some massive sword like Sten or Alistair. And my armor would be far lighter. The elf could teach me to move quickly.

“Very well. Do your worst.”

He jutted his chin at my sword. “Pick it up.”

As I jerked the sword out of the ground, he moved behind me and put his hands on my hips. “This is not your chance to cop a feel,” I muttered at him and felt him smile.

“Widen your stance,” he said, one hand drifting up to my stomach. I had stripped down to a pair of light breeches and a cropped shirt due to the heat, therefore his hand rested on my bare skin. “You must have a strong center. When you wield your staff, you must be balanced, yes?” I nodded and he lifted my arm holding my sword. “It is the same when you wield a blade. It becomes an extension of your arm.” He pushed my stance wider with his toe. “And while your center must be strong and your stance solid, you must be able to adapt and move.” He hooked his foot around my ankle and pulled my leg out from under me. I staggered forwards, but before I could hit the ground, the elf caught my wrist. He grinned down at me, ignoring my glare. “Is that clear?” he asked.

“Crystal.”

He pulled back up to my feet and unsheathed his own blades. “Then defend yourself.”

My eyes went wide. “What, no. I’m not ready.”

“The best way to learn is by doing, Warden.” He raised his sword and tossed it aside. “To make this fair, I will only use my dagger.”

I lifted my sword, gripping it with both hands, and shifted into a defensive stance. The elf twirled his dagger in his fingers and grinned at me. I narrowed my eyes at him. My life as a mage had made me cautious and I was reluctant to begin the fight. Zevran seemed more than willing to do so. He stalked towards me, looking relaxed. He probably was. I was going to be very little challenge for him… if I wasn’t using my magic. My lips twitched up. He wasn’t going to play fair, so neither was I. As he took another step forward, I flicked my fingers and ice froze his foot to the ground.

Instead of looking upset, his grin widened. “Good,” he purred as I charged him, my blade raised high. I brought it down in a scything blow, which he easily deflected with his dagger. He blocked another couple clumsy strikes, then lashed out with the heel of his palm and caught me in the center of my chest. I staggered backwards, my breath leaving me gasping and bent over. Zevran easily broke free of my ice trap and swept my legs out from under me. I landed hard on my back, which did not help me catch my breath. He knocked the blade out of my hand while simultaneously pressing his own to my neck.

“I believe I take this one, my dear Warden,” he whispered as he pinned me to the ground.

“Don’t be so sure,” I replied and Zevran froze when he heard a low growl. Garrou was crouched just behind him, his lips pulled back in a snarl.

Zevran hesitated for a moment, then sat up, holding up his hands and letting the dagger fall to the ground. “Easy, dog,” he said.

“Garrou, get him,” I said.

“You are an evil woman.” The elf smirked at me, then took off at a dead sprint, my hound snapping at his heels.


	4. Midnight Swim

I pulled off my gloves and flopped down on to my pallet, groaning as I flung an arm over my eyes. Everything hurt, every inch of me bruised and battered. The journey to the Frost Back mountains had been brutal thus far. The darkspawn were growing in number every day, forcing us to move more slowly and more quietly. Unfortunately, it was nearly impossible for us to remain invisible in the country side due mostly to Sten. I was fond of the man, but when he moved he sounded like a bucket of nails rolling down a flight of stairs. Also, he couldn’t hide… at all. I groaned again and rolled onto my side, one hand fumbling with the buckles on my armor. My fingers felt heavy and thick and all I really wanted was to sleep for several centuries, or at least until this damn Blight was over and done with. But, from past experience, I knew if I fell asleep in my armor, I’d regret it several hours later. Besides, I was still splattered with blood of several different species and had no desire to smell like them in the coming hours.

So, I stripped myself out of my leathers and lurched to my feet. We’d camped a couple hundred yards away from a lake and I hoped that water was cold. I slipped out the back of the tent, not wanting to speak to any of my companions at the moment. While dear to my heart, those people could gripe like no others. I was only a few steps outside my tent when I felt a cold nose on the back of my leg and I glanced down to see Garrou, wagging furiously, slobber dripping from his lips.

I smiled and ruffled his ears. “Hey, sweetheart, you get to make sure nobody sneaks up on the elf in the buff and gets a lightning bolt in the face.” He whined and bounced around my feet as we snuck off to the lake.

Dark had fallen and through the thick canopy of leaves, I could just see stars. Occasionally, I would leave my tent in the middle of the night and lay on the grass, staring up at the inky darkness. Garrou would keep me company, stretching his warm length against my side. I set Garrou to watch at the edge of the trees as I stripped down to my skin and stepped into the cool depths. A small sigh slipped from my lips as the water rose to my waist then over my breasts. I could feel the grime of battle wash away and once I was deep enough, I pushed off the bottom and floated on my back. The heavens stretched away before me and for the first time in a long time I felt content. My eyes slowly closed as I drifted in to a light doze.

*****

A shadow caught Zevran’s eye, slipping away toward the trees, a loping form by its side. A slow grin curled his lips and his eyes darkened. Skye had pitched her tent further away from the camp than most of the others, unused to so many humans. While she had been nothing but friendly towards the others, he had learned to read people well in his time with the Crows. She was uncomfortable being around so many people depending on her. Her silvery eyes darkened by shades whenever Wynne extolled the necessity for maturity and self sacrifice or Alistair turned on his puppy dog gaze.

Already in nothing by his trousers, Zevran crept forward, following the elf’s lithe form. She moved with the grace of a born dancer, and he wished he’d been able to see her dance with the Dalish, more exposed and open than she was now. Watching her run in front of him was exceedingly distracting, her tight backside swaying beneath her leathers. Since becoming an arcane warrior, she’d gladly forsaken her heavy robes in favor of tighter and more protective armor. He had to admit that it was an improvement.

He slowed when he saw the shimmering water in front of him, the smile growing when he saw the Grey Warden’s silhouette slip into the water, devoid of clothing. She nearly disappeared as she went deeper, only her head visible. Zevran went to creep closer when a low growl froze him in his tracks. The hulking shape of the mabari separated itself from the trees, stalking towards him on silent footsteps. The elf held up his hands, sending soothing vibes towards the hound. Unfortunately, Garrou didn’t seem to feel them and continued forward, his shoulders rising up as he lowered, preparing to pounce. Realizing the dog wasn’t going to stop with a menacing growl, Zevran backed up until his back hit a tree. Without hesitation, he turned and leapt for the lowest branch, scrambling upwards and just missing the mabari’s snapping jaws.

“Down, you mangy hound,” he hissed, trying to wave the dog away.

*****

Garrou’s growls echoed across the surface of the lake, bringing my eyes open. I glanced over towards the bank, but saw nothing. The mabari’s growls continued however. Quickly and quietly, I swam back towards the shore, staying low in the water. When my feet found the lake bed, I surged out of the water, my hands glowing with power. Garrou was menacing a tree, growling at something in the branches.

“Maltido,” a voice hissed, and I let the glow fade slightly, walking over to the tree and looking upwards.

I made no move to hush Garrou. “Looks like you’re in a bit of a situation,” I said, planting my hands on my hips and quirking an eyebrow.

Zevran glared down at me, his whiskey colored eyes illuminated by my magic. “Call off the dog,” he growled. He was crouching awkwardly on a branch, his chest bare, blonde hair loose around his angular face. Garrou snarled again. “Mierda.” I gently put a hand on the mabari’s large head, and he sat, the growls subsiding, though his chest still vibrated. I guessed now he was teasing the elf, his stubby tail beating against the ground.

“I set him to make sure nothing nasty crept up on me. It seems it was a good thing I did so.” I was grinning now. The elf was usually so poised and controlled, albeit less than serious, and seeing him like this more than made up for the day. I curled a strand of hair around my finger, pretending to consider my options. “Seeing as I have you completely at my mercy, what shall I do with you?” I bit my lip playfully, still smiling.

Zevran’s glare intensified. “Normally, I would be more than willing to leap at this flirtation,” he said. “But I am cold and stuck in a tree with your vicious dog snapping at my toes.”

I scratched Garrou’s head. “Who’s my good boy,” I cooed. Then to Zevran, “I suppose I could let you down. But only because I am a far better person than you.” I stepped backwards, Garrou following me, if a little reluctantly. I knelt beside him. “Guard,” I whispered. He whined, but when I gave him a stern look, he rose and wandered off into the shadows. I stood and returned to my clothes, pulling the robe I had grabbed and throwing it around my shoulders. As I tied the tie, Zevran dropped from the tree, landing in a crouch then straightening.

His eyes were hooded and now that I had let my magic fade, I couldn’t see his expression. “That was a dangerous game to play, bella mía.” His voice was threatening, but I could hear a dark flirtation underneath. Unlike with the others in our party, I felt no compulsion to mince my words with the elf.

“I don’t play games, da’mi,” I said countering his Antivan with my own Dalish.

His white teeth flashed in the darkness. “Such a clever tongue.” He stepped closer. “I’d be interested to know what else that clever tongue can do.”

I rolled my eyes. Zevran’s flirtations had been amusing, if a little irritating. “You’d think you’d be used to rejection by now,” I said, gathering my clothes and making to return to the camp. However, before I could go any further, a tanned arm shot out, halting my progress. I paused and turned my head slightly to look at him. “Was there something you wanted?” I asked, my lips curving up ever so slightly.

He looked down at me, a grin on his face. Carefully, he took a step forward, backing me up until my back hit a tree. His hand was planted beside my head, his own head tilted slightly towards me. I was looking up at him, the small smile still playing around my lips.

“You look so tense, Grey Warden,” he said, all anger gone from his voice. “Perhaps I could help with an Antivan massage.”

I feigned innocence. “A massage, huh?” I bit my lower lip and looked up through my eyelashes. “Do you think it would help?”

“My massages always help.” He leaned closer and I could feel heat radiating off his naked chest.

“You seem so sure of your…abilities,” I said, letting my eyes wander down his body, lingering on the trail of hair that ran from his navel and disappeared into the waistline of his pants. “And I admit,” I rolled my neck, letting out a quiet moan. “I have been feeling a little tight lately.”

The elf’s darkened again, though I guessed this time with something a bit more carnal. “I could help with that,” he said, leaning closer. Carefully, I trailed a finger down his chest, tracing the hard lines of muscle. I felt him shiver under my touch and as my finger drifted lower, heard a sharp intake of breath. Knowing I had him, I stood up on my toes, my lips just brushing his. The hand not against the tree moved to my waist.

As I felt his fingers tighten, I paused. “Zevran,” I said quietly.

“Mmm?”

“I am not going to sleep with you.” I pulled away and relaxed back against the tree, still looking up at him.

He looked surprised for a moment, then chuckled. “Such a cruel woman,” he said, his voice rough with desire. “Excruciatingly exquisite.” He straightened and pulled away from me. “Should you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.”

“Of course.” I gathered my clothes and left Zevran standing by the side of the lake, still grinning. It wasn’t until I was back in my tent that I let out a long breath, trying to release the tension that I suddenly felt in my shoulders. “Curious,” I said quietly.


	5. Loyalty

I didn’t like being underground. I like it a lot less when I was having dreams of an ugly ass dragon that seemed to whisper it my mind. I sat up with a gasp, sweat pouring off my body. This was the third night in a row I’d woken up in a panicked sweat and I could feel the sleeplessness tugging at my body, making me irritable and sloppy. Oghren, the dwarf we had picked up in Orzamar, had already barked at me several times to get my head out of my ass. 

I rubbed my hands over my face as I tried to put the dream out of my mind. It was only when I pulled my hands away that I noticed they were trembling. Alistair had told me the dreams were part of being a Grey Warden, but he had also said that Wardens don’t usually understand the archdemon until their time was almost up. Every time I had the dream, the words in my mind became more and more clear. Come to me. 

“Shit,” I whispered, looking into the low coals of the fire. 

“Bad dreams, Warden?” Zevran emerged from the shadows where he had been on watch.

A ragged laugh worked its way out of my throat. “You could say that, yeah.”

He sat next to me, he hands dangling over his knees. “Is it hard for you?” I looked at him sideways with a questioning eyebrow raised. “Being underground?”

“I’m fine.”

“Of course you are.” He blew a gentle breath of air over my face and I shivered as the sweat on my skin cooled. “You certainly look fine.” He eyed me carefully, taking in the dark circles under my eyes and the pallor that had taken over my face. 

I sighed. “What about you? Spending this much time underground can’t be easy for anyone.”

“I am very adaptable,” he said, shrugging. 

“Uh huh.” I must have looked skeptical, because the elf laughed quietly.

“Once, I spent two weeks in the hold of a vessel bound for Kirkwall. The captain was very welcoming, yes, but the hold reeked of bile and sweat. At least down here we can move and stretch.”

I cocked my head. “Where all have you been? I would imagine you must travel a lot as an assassin.”

“You are not wrong.” He rested back on his hands. “I have seen a large part of the world. For that, I must thank the Crows.” His lips quirked up. “Being an Antivan assassin had its advantages.” He looked over at me. “And you, Warden? I have heard it said that the Dalish are nomadic.”

I bobbled my head. “Technically, yes, we do move our aravels periodically, but I’ve never left Ferelden. Our Keeper, Marethari, she felt that we were safe on familiar paths. Just before the Grey Wardens found me, though, there was talk of leaving Ferelden.” My eyes lost focus as I fell into a memory. “Once I met an Orlesian merchant. He had the most beautiful voice and he told me about the elegance of the Orlesian court.” I realized that my voice had taken on a softer tone than I usually used and I blushed. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I’ve always wanted to travel.”

“Why haven’t you?”

I shrugged. “I was training to become the next Keeper. I had obligations.”

“There was no one else who might take your place?”

“There was Merril,” I said fondly. “She was the other mage in our clan, but she was always a little… absent minded.” I smiled at my toes as I remembered my friend. “She once spent an entire day weaving daisy chains for the elders, you know. But Tamlen and I…” I trailed off as I swallowed hard, the smile fading from my face. I’d done my best to avoid thoughts of Tamlen, but they were never buried very deep.

Zevran seemed to sense my hesitance, because he brushed a finger over my cheek. I drew away with surprise, but he only smiled. “Calm yourself, Warden. I am simply curious as to your markings. I know little of the Dalish, but they all seem to have these tattoos.”

I was thankful for the change in subject. “They’re called vallaslin, blood writing.” I touched my face, tracing the familiar curves of the delicate branches that decorated my cheeks and temples. They were a symbol of Mythal, our protector. Getting them had been one of the proudest moments of my life. I hadn’t cried out, despite the immense pain, and Marethari had told me I looked like my mother when I was done. “A sign of adulthood, the tattoos are given when an elf is prepared to take on responsibilities. They serve as a reminder that we will never again submit to a will other than our own.” I looked at his tattoos. “And you? Where did your marks come from?”

At this, the elf snorted. “They came from a night that involved too much whiskey and a very pretty girl telling me I would look good with them.”

“Really?”

“I was young and stupid, once.” He tapped his temple where the dark markings curved around his face. “But I have come to like them.”

We were quiet for a while as we both looked into the flames. The dream of the archdemon had left me and I felt my eyes being to droop.

“You should sleep, Warden,” Zevran said quietly as he got to his feet. “We have a ways to go yet.”

I nodded and the elf turned to walk away. “Hey, Zevran,” I called quietly and he paused, half turning to look at me over his shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Anything for you, bella mía,” he said and his voice was almost gentle.

I lay back down on my pallet and fell asleep almost instantly.  
*****  
I was practically bouncing as we approached the massive doors that separated Orzamar from the outside world. There was a grin spread across my face, so wide my cheeks were beginning to hurt.

“Calm down, Skye,” Wynn said, a disapproving note in her voice. “You are behaving like a child about to be given candy.”

“And you’re making me dizzy just watching you,” Oghren added. The dwarf looked pale under his beard and he eyed the approaching door with apprehension. 

“I didn’t know someone with such a low center of gravity could get dizzy,” Zevran said and received a hearty blow for his words. He staggered sideways, laughing as he rubbed his arm. I guessed it was probably already bruised.

“Would you two stop flirting,” I said and danced a little ways a head of them. I wanted to feel the grass under my feet and the sky above my head.

“Yes, dwarf,” Zevran teased. “Stop flirting with me.”

Oghren growled and crossed his arms over his barreled chest. “Let’s get this over with.”

I led the way as we trooped up the short flight of stairs. A pair of Orzamar guards stood on either side of the massive doors and they pushed them open as we approached. A cool breeze swept away the stale air and I laughed, darting forward, looking up at the night sky. Stars twinkled back to me and I practically threw myself onto the dew dampened grass.

“She’s like a puppy,” I heard Wynne say.

“Perhaps I should scratch her belly,” Zevran murmured.

“You try that and you’ll get a smack,” I said from where I lay in the grass. I’d stretched my arms above my head and I wriggling against the ground. I felt clean for the first time in a week, but still wanted to find a cool stream to wash the cave grime away. I sat up and saw that Oghren looked like he was about to pass out.

“Hey, short stack,” I called. “How’re you feeling?”

He grimaced. “Like a golem just kicked me where the sun don’t shine.”

“Peachy.” I got to my feet and stretched again, savoring the cracks that ran down my back. I smelled like earth now, instead of dusty dead things. All was right. “Shall we?” I turned and began to walk back towards the market, ready to get moving. We’d gotten the aid of Orzamar and the new King Bahlen and it was time we went to meet the Arl of Redcliffe. Alistair had been a little miffed that we hadn’t gone to see him first, but I figured we should go to him with most of the treaties already fulfilled.

Oghren caught up to me first, walking unsteadily like his ties to the earth had gotten loser. “I need to get drunk,” he grumbled and I slapped his shoulder. 

“Come on, I’ll buy you the first round.”  
*****  
Her dark hair was flung out over the grass and Zevran couldn’t help but smile as he watched her roll around, regardless of the damp or dirt. She looked genuinely happy for the first time since they’d gone into the dwarven city. Her white teeth flashed in the darkness as she laughed. 

“I don’t know why she’s in such a good mood,” Oghren grumbled and Zevran looked over at him. The dwarf looked ill and kept casting furtive glances up at the sky. “She keeps on rolling about like that, she’s going to fall up into all that darkness.”

“You can try telling her to stop,” Zevran said dryly. “But I doubt she’ll listen.”

The dwarf shivered. “I don’t know how you people get anything done without stone above your head.”

“We seem to manage quite well.”

Skye sat up and grinned at them. “Hey short stack,” she called. “How're you feeling?”

“Like a golem just kicked me where the sun don’t shine,” he called back but Zevran thought he could hear a small smile in the dwarf’s voice. 

“Peachy.” Skye got to her feet and stretched again, before tying back her hair in a messy tail. Grass clung to her legs and arms, but she made no move to brush it away. “Shall we?” She walked away from them, a bounce in her step that hadn’t been there when they were underground. Zevran grinned and moved to follow her. 

“Zevran.” He looked back at Wynn who was still standing on the steps. “A word please.” 

The elf shrugged and turned back to the elderly mage. He thought he was going to get scolded for his constant requests to lay his head on her bosom. But, instead of taking out a finger and shaking at him, she looked quietly thoughtful. 

“Was there something you wanted, my dear?” the elf asked, cocking his head to one side.

Wynne was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “I was wondering if you’ve had any time to think about your future.”

Zevran’s eyebrows shot up. “My future? I assumed that it would be filled with beautiful creatures, such as yourself, and fabulous Antivan wine.”

The mage frowned. “You don’t have a serious bone in your body, do you?”

“No.” He shifted from foot to foot and glanced over his shoulder. Skye and Oghren had paused at a merchants stall and were examining flasks. A dark spawn bolt had punctured Oghren’s and he was no doubt looking to replace it.

Wynne cleared her throat, brining his attention back to her. “What are you going to do about your contract with the Crows?” She said all this bluntly and without a hint of accusation.

Zevran thought about this. They had yet to be attacked by the Crows, but he had no doubt that it would come sooner or later.

“Will you kill her to save your own life?” Wynne asked quietly. Zevran didn’t need to ask which her Wynne was asking about. 

The elf shrugged. “I have no doubt the Warden will have little issue with whatever the Crows chose to send after her. I doubt I will ever have to chose between my life and hers.”

Wynne pressed her lips together, but let the issue go. She swept passed him to join the others, leaving him alone. He scratched his cheek as he watched them. Skye laughed about something the dwarf said and he felt an unbidden smile creep on to his own face. Wynne worrying was needless and for the time, he would enjoy what he had.


	6. Memories

I blew a strand of hair out of my face with an irritated breath. My arms and legs trembled beneath me, wanting to buckle and let me fall to the ground. But I growled low and clenched my fingers in to hard fists on the floor. Sweat poured off my bare back and dripped off the tip of my nose.

“Does it have to be so hot?” I hissed. A fire blazed in the hearth and the room was filled with stifling heat.

Zevran circled me slowly, then bent and tapped my lower back with one finger. I dropped my hips so my body was a straight plank and grunted with the strain. I’d asked the elf to help me with my strength, which was severely lacking. Before picking up a sword, I hadn’t needed it. But, now, my endurance with a blade was laughable, my arms quickly tiring. So, he had me working every evening. Now that we were in the Arl of Redcliff’s estate, he was taking full advantage of the materials provided.

“You asked me to train you, Warden. That is what I am doing.” He squatted in front of me and I looked up into his face with a glare. He was smirking. “Unless,” he said. “This is to much of a challenge for you.” 

I snarled and tensed my muscles. I recognized that his words were meant to get me to try harder, and it irritated me that they were working. The elf rose to his feet and resumed his circling. I tried to breathe deeply, but the heat seemed to be driving all the oxygen from the room and my lungs struggled to draw in breath.

“Is this how you learned?” I panted.

“It is very similar,” the elf said. “Although the fire was beneath us and if we failed the exercise, we would fall into the coals.” He chuckled. “Be thankful I do not have a proper Crow training room on hand, Warden.”

I was only able to manage a few unintelligible noises in response.

Zevran chuckled and went over to the fire to stoke the flames. Creators forbid they should go out. I ground my teeth together and closed my eyes as I tried to count the seconds. Unfortunately, that only seemed to make the time go more slowly and I grunted again. 

“Was there something you wanted to say, Warden?” Zevran asked, his voice teasing. I cursed him in Dalish and he clucked his tongue reprovingly. “That’s no way to speak to a teacher. Perhaps you ought to call me master, just so you understand our relationship.”

“Go boil your blighted head… Master,” I spat, then collapsed against the floor, my limbs feeling like jelly.

Zevran laughed and went over to the window, pushing it open to let in the cool night air. I rolled onto my back in an effort to let the breeze waft over my face. When that did nothing, I rolled up to sitting, wincing as the motion pulled at my exhausted muscles. 

“I think I need to go lie on a glacier for a couple of decades,” I groaned. The elf walked over to me and offered his hand. I took it and allowed him to pull me to my feet. 

“Come with me,” he said. “I think I might have something that will help.” He went over to the window and, to my surprised, climbed out of it, pulling himself upwards.

“Zevran,” I started as his feet disappeared. I followed him and stuck my head out over the courtyard. Zevran had already managed to clambered up the side of the castle, heading for a flat section of roof. He paused and looked back at me, his white teeth flashing in the darkness. 

“Coming, Warden?”

“If I fall,” I said, carefully climbing out the window, resting my feet on the sill before hoisting myself up onto the roof. “I am taking you with me.”

“You should know by now that I’ll follow you anywhere,” he teased, then continued upwards.

I scowled and kept my eyes fixed on my hands and where I was putting them. “You wouldn’t be following me, da’mi, you would be falling.”

“That can be the same thing.” He had reached the flat piece of roof and sat with his legs dangling over the edge, watching me. Redcliffe Castle spread out beneath us, but the height didn’t bother me all that much. I had climbed trees taller than this with my Dalish brothers and sisters. When I reached him, he again offered me a hand, but this one I ignored. Instead, I sat beside him and looked down over my toes. Guards patrolled the courtyard bellow, their armor glinting in the light of flickering torches. Then I lay back and looked upwards. The star studded sky fell away and I felt my lips turn up in to a smile. 

“Did you know you have starlight in your eyes?” Zevran’s voice was surprisingly soft and held none of its teasing flirtation.

I looked over at him. “They’re gray,” I said.

“No, they have starlight in them.” He lay back beside me and folded his hands behind his head. “You know, when I was a boy, I would go up to the roof of the brothel at night, just to look at the stars.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “The air seemed cleaner, cooler up there. Antiva is a beautiful city, but the air can get so thick with spices and wine and women, that it can get hard to breathe.”

I rolled onto my side and rested my head in my hand, looking down at him. He was clearly lost in memories and for a moment, he lost all the lines in his face. His lips were curled up in a gentle smile, so different from the smirk he usually wore. 

“Why did you chose to leave the Crows?” I asked him. “You seem to enjoy the work.”

Zevran’s eyes shifted over to my face. “You are not wrong,” he said. “But like I said when I met you, I did not enjoy working for people who expected me to die for my failure.”

I raised my eyebrows at him. “That’s really the only reason?”

“I saw an opportunity and I took,” he said, then shrugged. “Though I have to admit that this situation has turned out to be more interesting that I had anticipated.”

“Mmm.” I watched him carefully for a long moment, waiting to see if he elaborated. I didn’t know if it was because I had been spending so much time with him or if I was just getting better at reading people, but I knew he wasn’t telling me the full story. When he didn’t say anything, I sighed and rolled back onto my back. “Fine. Keep your secrets, assassin.” I had expected him to chuckle, but he was still silent and I felt him stiffen next to me. 

“I admit that my reasons for taking a mission that would take me so far from Antiva were many,” he said finally. “There was a mission before…” he trailed off. “Well, it went wrong.”

“Does this have anything to do with the woman the Guardian mentioned?” I asked quietly.

His eyes darkened by degrees. “Yes.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” I said. “I understand that the past isn’t always pleasant.”

“No. Perhaps it’s time I tell the story.” He sighed and closed his eyes. “You have to understand, before I came here, I was extremely cocky. I believed I was the best both as an assassin and as a lover.”

“You were more cocky,” I said, then clapped a hand over my mouth. “Sorry, reflex.”

He smiled. “You’re forgiven.”

“Please, continue.”

“A master grew tired of my insolence and braggadocio. When my bid for an incredibly difficult target was accepted, one of my fellows, Taliesen and a woman named Rinna came with me.” He exhaled slowly. “Rinna was special. Lithe, graceful, and eyes that burned with justice. She was everything I thought I wanted.”

“You loved her,” I said quietly. 

“I had closed off my heart, but she touched something in me. It frightened me. When we reached the target, Taliesen informed me that he had found that Rinna had accepted a bribe from the target. He suggested that we take her punishment into our own hands. I agreed and for her betrayal we sentenced her to death. When we confronted her, she begged me not to kill her. Said that she was innocent. She fell to her knees, tears in her eyes.” Zevran fell silent suddenly. I’d already guessed how this story would end and didn’t pressure him to continue.  
“I cut her throat and she died still pleading with me to spare her. I spat on her for betraying the crows,” he said, his jaw flexing under the skin as he swallowed hard. “When we reached the target, we discovered that Taliesen’s information had been wrong. Rinna had been innocent. 

“Taliesen and I agreed to tell the masters she had died in the attempt, but we needn’t have bothered. When we returned to Antiva, the master who disliked me told me so to my face. He said the Crows knew… and that they didn’t care. And one day, my turn would come.” He finally opened his eyes and looked at me. “You asked me why I wanted to leave the Crows. In truth, what I wanted was to die. What better way than to throw myself at one of the fable Grey Wardens?” He smiled sadly. “And now, here I am.”

“Do you still want to die?”

He thought about that for a long moment, then shook his head. “No, I don’t believe so. Meeting you… this quest has given me a purpose, if you will. For that, I have to thank you.”  
“Flatterer,” I said, my voice soft, then, “Thank you for telling me, Zev.”

“It feels good to speak of this, to be honest.” He moved to rest on his elbows and smiled down at me, some of his cockiness back in the curve of his lips. “Besides, I hear that women love a man in touch with his feelings.” His eyebrows waggled outrageously and I smacked his chest. 

“You are such an ass,” I said, chuckling.

“But that is why you like me, Warden. I think you would be disappointed if I was anything else.” Almost as if he weren’t thinking about it, he brushed a stray piece of hair out of my face. As he tucked it behind my ear, his fingers lingered on my skin, warm where they touched me. My eyes fixed on his and I felt the breath catch in my throat. Even in the near dark, his eyes glowed like honeyed whiskey. 

“We should-ah,” I cleared my throat. “We should go back down. I’m sure dinner is close to being ready.”

“Mmm.” Despite my words, neither of us made any move to return to the castle. Zevran’s thumb gently traced the line of my jaw and I shivered. “You’re cold,” he said quietly.

“No,” I murmured. “No, I’m not.” His eyes widened slightly, then darted down towards my lips.

For a moment, I wanted to let him kiss me, here, under the starlight. I had no doubt that it would be a moment of pure bliss. I thought what would come after the kiss. I could see us clambering back down to his room, falling into bed together, maybe even falling asleep in each other’s arms. In that moment, I almost lifted my head to kiss him. 

Then the more rational side of my brain kicked in and I thought about tomorrow morning. In these circumstances, entering into any sort of entanglement could lead to interpersonal problems I couldn’t afford. Too much rested on this mission.

I covered Zevran’s hand with my own. “Dinner,” I insisted.

He blinked, then smiled and pulled away from me. “I am feeling a bit hungry.” He rolled away from me and together, we made our way down the side of the roof, more carefully now that full dark had fallen. He went through his window first and I followed. When we were both standing in his room I glanced sideways at him and grinned. 

“So, dinner?”

He returned my smile and bowed slightly at the waist. “After you, bella mía.”


	7. Captured

“Please, your highness, we should be moving more quickly.” I glanced anxiously over my shoulder, my sword out. Our escape had been far too easy since finding Anora and I was waiting for the axe to fall. Zevran prowled ahead of our group his face set in a permanent smirk. He was enjoying this. I sent a glare at his back, and as if he’d felt it, he turned and sent a wider smile my way.

“Eyes front,” I muttered and he returned to the task at hand. 

Morgan rolled her eyes. “If you two are done, can we please leave these drafty halls?” She looked about, lips curled in disgust. “That Howe did not have much taste.”

“He seemed to have a well stocked cheese cellar,” Alistair commented, then yipped as Morgan wacked him with her staff.

“Do you ever grow tired of hearing yourself speak?” she growled.

“All most never.” Alistair threw one of his charming smiles at the witch, which she answered with her own chilly glare.

“Talk about unresolved sexual tension,” I said and Zevran chuckled.

“I thought I was the only one who noticed.”

I laughed. “Hardly.” Both of them began to protest loudly, but I waved them off. “We are on a covert mission,” I said. “Can we please retain some professionalism?”

“How is it you people have managed to survive all this time?” Anora was looking between us, aghast.

“With clever quips and Alistair’s hair,” I said.

Her mouth opened and closed several times, but her response was cut short when we came to the final door between us and freedom. My anxiety, which had been momentarily distracted by our bantering, soared back in to dangerously high levels. 

Zevran felt the handle. “Unlocked,” he whispered. 

All of us raised our respective weapons and I nodded at the elf. “Go.”

He swung open the door and the five of us slipped into the room. Unfortunately, it became very quickly apparent we were not alone. Bows creaked as a dozen archers leveled arrows at us.

“Maltido,” Zevran muttered. 

A woman stepped out from the crowd. Ser Cauthrien, Logain’s right hand. “Warden, you are charged with kidnapping the Queen and the murder of Arl Rendon Howe. How do you plead?”

“Well yes to the second as Howe was an ass. But we’re rescuing the Queen not kidnapping her.” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder at Anora. “She’ll vouch for us.”

Anora stepped to the front of our group. “Ser Cauthrien, I’m so glad you’re here. These Wardens were trying to kidnap me.”

I had begun to nod in agreement, then jerked my head around to look at the Queen. “What?” I squawked. Anora crossed the space between the soldiers and my company to stand by Cauthrien’s side. “You bitch,” I hissed. “Can I kill her?” 

“Not here,” Alistair put a hand on my shoulder, keeping me from raising my sword.

“Surrender now,” Ser Cauthrien said, “And you won’t be harmed.”

“They always say that, and it has never been true,” Zevran said.

“Then we fight.” Morrigan’s hands began to glow with power.

“You heard the lady,” I said. “Let’s do this.” 

Morgan and I threw up our hands, throwing out ice and freezing many of the archers before they could release their arrows. Alistair raised his shield, stepping in front and catching another couple of arrows. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Anora disappear behind her new best friends, her stupid face hidden behind her helmet. Zevran and Alistair spun forward, cleaving through the front ranks of Logain’s soldiers. I began my chain of electricity spell, feeling my power grow, coming up from my toes and gathering in my fingers as I released it, putting a few bodied on the ground in spasms. Morgan threw out a fire ball, men screaming as they flew backwards, flames catching at the fabric in the gaps of their armor. Zevran ducked under a swinging blade and stuck his dagger into his opponent’s heart. Cauthrien, who had been hanging back from the battle thus far, stepped forward, moving through the crowd aiming for Alistair. 

“Fenedhis,” I hissed. “Morrigan, get Alistair out of here.” She glanced over and saw Cauthrien’s trajectory. Without speaking, she shifted into a bear and plowed through the soldiers, ignoring the few cuts she received. Before Alistair had time to react, she knocked him on to her back, continuing her path though the doors Anora had escaped through. Zevran had seen all this and had retreated back towards my side. 

“You have a plan, yes?” he called, throwing a grenade into the crowd, stunning a couple of opponents. 

“I’m going to clear a path. Get ready,” I answered. Summoning a cloud that would leech the energy of the soldiers long enough for him to escape, I waited until just the right moment. Then, “Now.” I released my stored energy and soldiers began to collapse. Zevran dashed forward, taking full advantage of the momentary lull. However, when he reached the doors, he paused and turned, looking for me at his shoulder. When he saw I hadn’t moved, his face twisted into an emotion I didn’t recognize.

“Warden,” he shouted. “Run!”

I shook my head, struggling to maintain the spell. The moment I let up, they’d be on their feet and after us. If I held the spell long enough, the assassin at least could get away.  
“Go, I’ll be fine.” As he hesitated, I threw a light fist of stone at him, knocking him through the door. I then released my other spell and sagged in surrender. Cauthrien rose, quickly shaking the effect and picking up her sword. With a steely expression, she hit me upside the head and all I knew was darkness.  
*****  
“Bann Teagan, I’m afraid I’ve done a terrible thing.” Anora looked contrite.

Zevran sneered, his hands clenching and unclenching with the inexplicable rage surging through his blood. “She sold out the woman trying to save her.”

“Wait, slow down, tell me what’s happened.” Teagan held up his hands.

Alistair cast Anora a disgusted glance. “Skye’s been captured by Logain. Anora told Cauthrien we were kidnapping her.”

“You did what?” Teagan looked between Anora and Alistair. “Why?”

“They would have killed me otherwise,” Anora whined. 

“And now they’re going to kill her,” the elf growled, stalking towards Anora. More than anything, he wanted to open her throat and spill her blood upon the floor.

Alistair caught him before he could do so, keeping a firm grip on his shoulder. “No, you’ll make it worse for her,” he hissed at the assassin. Zevran strained against the Warden’s grasp for a moment, the relented, turning away and taking a few steps back. 

“Obviously we’re going after her,” Alistair said to Teagan, completely ignoring Anora now.

“But we’ll have to be clever about this.” Teagan rubbed his chin. “Getting into the dungeons isn’t going to be easy. Logain has set up a fortress.”

“Agreed.”

Zevran finally turned around. “Well if you want clever, then you’ll want me. None of you knows the first thing about subterfuge.”

“For once I agree with the elf,” Morrigan said, speaking up for the first time. “All of you are idiots. At least he is a clever idiot.”

“Who else should go?” Teagan asked.

“Me, of course,” Alistair said.

Teagan immediately shook his head. “We may have already lost one Warden. And you are the heir to the throne. You’re too valuable.”

“I’m going to save my friend.” Alistair crossed his arms stubbornly. 

“No, you’re not.” 

Ogrhen chose that moment to wander in, belching and rubbing a hand across his mustache.  
“What’s going on.” He looked at all of the serious faces. “Somebody die?”

“Skye has been captured,” Morrigan explained.

“So me and the elf will go in after her.” The dwarf said this without any doubt in his voice.

Alistair opened his mouth to argue, but Zevran cut him off. “No, this is perfect.” He grabbed Ogrhen’s shoulder. “You and me, dwarf. Let’s storm a castle.”  
*****  
I came awake slowly, my skin on cold stone. For a moment, my mind struggled to connect this to something I remembered. Then, a sword at my throat and Anora’s betrayal.

"That bitch,” I swore and sat up. I immediately regretted this, as my head began to throb around the lump that had grown on my temple. “Ow.”

“They did a right number on you.” I looked around to see a man in the neighboring cell watching me. His face was covered in several layers of bruises and his lip was split and leaking blood. “But I suppose it could be worse,” he said. “They could have taken away your small clothes.”

I looked down and realized that was really all they’d left me with. “Bastard shemlen.” I groaned and got to my feet. I was in worse shape than I first thought. Besides the throbbing lump on my head, it appeared those who’d brought me here had taken my unconsciousness as an opportunity to throw in a few kicks. My ankle throbbed when I put pressure on it and my ribs and legs were bruised, several cuts still leaking blood. My lip was split and when I reached up to touch it, I felt another long cut across my cheek bone. 

“Might as well give it a rest,” my new companion said. “There’s no getting out, not while those are about.” He jerked his chin at the two guards, both heavily armed and well armored.

“Do you know where they keep the equipment they took from us?” I asked, still examining the bars. 

“Not a clue.” He leaned back against the wall, stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing his arms. 

“Lot of good you are.” Making a split decision, I pressed myself against the bars and batted my eyes at the guards. “Hey, boys,” I called, shifting my hips suggestively. “A girl can get pretty lonely over here.” My eyes slowly ran up and down their forms. “She could use some company, if you know what I mean.”

The two men looked at each other, then back at me. “She’s a witch,” one of them muttered. “A witchy little elf.”

The other was still eyeing me. “But look at her. A man could get to know that body quite well.”

I focused all my attention of him, delicately licking my lips. “I wouldn’t mind seeing what’s under that armor.” I held out my empty hands. “Besides, you can see I don’t have any weapons, so how could I possibly use my magic?”

“I don’t think that’s right,” the first one said.

“But what if it is?” The wavering one shifted his armor, his eyes fixed on my breasts. 

“It’s your funeral.”

The second man ignored him and wandered towards me, stopping within a foot of the cell. “What could you do for me?” he asked.

“Come closer and I’ll tell you,” I whispered, beckoning him towards me. 

The guard sidled close enough that I could reach out and touch him. “Tell me.”

Before he could get any closer, I shot him full in the face with a lightning bolt, then followed up with his partner before he could get his sword out and shout for help. Both bodies fell to the ground, smoking slightly. I squatted and reached through the bars, grabbing the guard’s corpse and sliding him towards me. He was heavier that he looked and I grunted slightly, falling backwards when he suddenly shifted towards me. I fumbled at his belt until I found a ring of keys. 

“By the Maker.” I’d forgotten about the other man. His eye were wide with surprise and he was sitting forward on his elbows. “Who are you?”

I grinned over my shoulder at him as I tried keys in the lock. “Skye, Grey Warden.”  
The man stood and walked over to the bars. “Well I am glad to meet you, Skye. I’m Harris, common thief.”

The lock finally clicked and the cell door swung open. I moved to Harris’s cell. “Well Harris common thief, shall we?” I opened his cell door and he stepped out, limping slightly. 

“I could kiss you,” he said.

“Better not.” I turned and began to search the rest of the room. Hopefully they’d stored my things in here. “Do you have anything you need to retrieve?” I asked.

“Nah. Didn’t really have anything worth taking when they got me.”

I waved a hand at the guards. “I’m sure some of their things will fit you. I’d rather you have some clothing on for our grand escape.”

“It’ll be odd to wear pants again.” He began stripping down the guards and trying on their clothing and armor. 

I finally found a trunk with my armor in it when I heard clattering behind us. 

“Halt!”

I spun to see several guards charge into the room. One of them was carrying my sword. I pointed at it. “That’s mine,” I said. “You’re going to want to give it back.”

The man laughed and waved my sword about. “It’s a nice new shiny toy.”

Suddenly, a new sword grew from his gut. “I believe the lady said that belonged to her,” said a familiar Antivan voice. Zevran caught my blade before the corpse could hit the ground. 

“You planned that, didn’t you?” I said, cocking a hip.

The elf casually cut down another man as Ogrhen charged out from behind the wall, roaring and plowing through the others. “Perhaps,” he said, smirking at me. A man appeared behind Zevran and I froze him with a flick of my fingers. The elf glanced over his shoulder, examining my handiwork. “Glad to see your time behind bars has not changed you.”

“Oh I’ve become angry and bitter. You won’t like me at all.”

“I do not believe that will be possible.” As the last man fell, Zevran crossed the room to hand me my sword, eyeing my lack of wardrobe. “I am enjoying this new style, Warden,” he said.  
“It certainly makes it easier for you to move. And it is highly distracting. You would hardly need to fight to win.”

I took my sword from him and rolled my eyes. “Even when you come in a on a white horse, you still act the part of the Antivan rogue.” I leaned my sword against the wall and began pulling on my clothing.

“What can I say, mía, it’s in my blood.”

“You have some interesting friends,” Harris said when he’d finished dressing in the guards’ armor.

“Ah, right.” I gestured at Harris, then at Zevran and Ogrhen. “This is Harris, the common thief and my fellow cell mate. Harris, this is Ogrhen, the powerful dwarven warrior and heartiest drinker in all the land.” The dwarf belched in response. I pointed Zevran. “And that’s Zevran.”

The elf made sounds of protest, but I ignored him, sliding my sword into the scabbard over my shoulder. “By the way, what are you wearing?” The boys were in a bright orange and red pantaloons and looked like clowns.

“We are the juggling twins,” Ogrhen said. “And I’m the handsome one.”

I held up my hands. “I’m not even going to ask.”

“You did rather spoil my brave rescue attempt by freeing yourself,” Zevran said. 

“But you got to kill people.”

He looked over his shoulder at the corpses. “That I did.” He looked back at me. “You are the perfect woman. Have I ever told you that?”


	8. Drinks

Walking turned out to be harder than expected. Once free of the keep, I leaned against the wall, closing my eyes and breathing heavily. My twisted ankle throbbed angrily at me and I resisted the urge to tell it to knock it off. I’d sent as much magic to my swelling foot as I could, but wanted to keep as much on reserve as possible in case we encountered trouble.

“You look worse than when we left,” Ogrhen grunted at me. 

“But I’m still prettier than you,” I shot back, my eyes still closed. 

“That’s debatable.” The dwarf threw his cudgel over his shoulder. “Come on then.” Surprisingly gentle, he wrapped a thick arm around my waist. “Lean on me.”

“No, really, I’m fine,” I said, though I was touched by the offer.

Ogrhen growled. “Elf, come help me with this stubborn lass.”

Another arm came around my waist. “Don’t be foolish, Warden,” Zevran whispered, his breath warm on my neck. I shivered. “Let us help you. Just this once.”

I thought about arguing, then relented. “Fine. But somebody better get me a drink before we get back to the estate. I’m going to need a lot of alcohol in my system so I don’t kill that bitch.”

“I already tried it,” Zevran grumbled. “Alistair objected.”

“He can be so tiresome sometimes,” I said and both my companions nodded in agreement.

Before we returned to Arl Eamon and his estate, Zevran and Ogrhen helped me into the Pearl, where they sat me down at a table. Ogrhen left to get us a tray of drinks, leaving me alone with Zevran, who was watching me with his unnerving gaze.

“What?” I asked, leaning my chin in my hands.

“Why did you stay behind?” His voice was surprisingly tight.

I raised my eyebrows. “Well you’d slow me down if we both got captured. I was better off on my own.”

“That is not true,” he said. “You and I both know this. Why did you do it?”

I sighed and let my eyes drift down to the table. “I don’t know, Zevran. Do I have to have a reason behind everything? I just did it. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

The elf was quiet for a moment, then, “You are a very odd woman,” he said quietly. 

“You’re not the first to tell me that.”

I felt a gentle hand on my cheek and my eyes drifted upwards. I was suddenly very tired and relaxed slightly into his warm touch. His thumb drifted over my split lip then up to my cut cheek bone. “That woman should die for what she did to you.” His words came out in a bare whisper, as if he were speaking to himself. 

“That’s sweet, but I’ve a feeling that would make a fair few unhappy.” Carefully, I pulled away from his hand as Ogrhen returned to the table with our drinks. 

“I think that man was ignoring me,” the dwarf grumbled. “Your counters are far too high for folk like me.”

“We make Alistair king and I’m sure he’ll see to it.”

“He’d better.”

I took a deep drink from the mug, gasping at the burn. The boys joined me. We repeated this for several rounds, or at least Ogrhen and I did. Zevran remained surprisingly sober during the evening. He laughed along with our increasingly drunken conversation, but seemed a bit reserved. When I could barely see straight and had forgotten about Anora, who I’d referred to as “that treacherous bitch” for most of the evening, Zevran took away our empty mugs and pulled Ogrhen from his seat.

“Come on, dwarf. Help me get this Grey Warden to bed.”

“I’ll help her into bed, alright,” Ogrhen said, leering at me. 

I giggled and slapped his arm. Apparently it had been harder than I’d intended, as Ogrhen staggered away, tripping over his feet and sprawling on his back. The entire tavern seemed to quiet when the dwarf thudded to the ground. Then he laughed, his whole body shaking with the action. The rest of the place laughed with him, myself included. 

“You should calm yourself, Warden,” Zevran said into my ear. 

I looked down to see my fingers crackling with electricity. My magic was seeping through my skin in my drunken state. I tried to tamp down on my emotions, but failed miserably. Instead, I slapped Zevran’s chest. The lightning on my skin jumped into him, causing him to jump backwards. This caused me to laugh even harder, doubling over, my bruised ribs aching with the motion. 

“Lighten up, Zev,” I said. “You’re behaving like Alistair.”

“Come, Warden, we should return to the estate.” He nudged Ogrhen with his foot. “Dwarf, up you get.”

Ogrhen mumbled something incoherent as he heaved himself to his feet. Leaving the dwarf to walk on his own, Zevran wrapped his arm around me, helping me off my ankle. 

“You know,” I said, slurring my words slightly. “You could take advantage of me.” I pushed a strand of hair out of my face, grinning up at him. In the light of the torches, his whiskey eyes seemed to glow and I was struck by how beautiful he was. “I wouldn’t mind… at all.” I put heavy emphasis on the last words, hoping his hand would leave my waist and find somewhere far more scandalous to rest. When he didn’t do anything, I rested my head on his shoulder, admiring the line of his jaw. “How come you get to be so beautiful?” I asked, drawing a smile from him.

“You say that like you aren’t,” he said.

“But, you’re a man.” I rolled my head back on my shoulders, looking up into the night sky. Ogrhen was weaving somewhere behind us, singing snatches of a song in a language I didn’t recognize. “Men aren’t supposed to be so beautiful.”

“Are you truly paying me a compliment, my dear Warden?” Zevran asked, shooting me a sideways glance. 

“Well I’m trying to get you into bed and I’m hoping compliments will work on you.” I bit my lip and looked up at him from under my eyelashes. “Do they?”

Zevran groaned. “You are very frustrating, my dear. After months of trying to get you to sleep with me, you choose now for your seduction.”

“Why is now a problem?”

“Because you are very intoxicated and are not able to make rational decisions. As much as I would love to take you up on your offer, I will not take advantage of you while you are like this.”

I pouted. “Spoil sport.” My own hand drifted lower, and he groaned again. 

“Do not tempt me, Warden,” he growled. “You know fully well that I take my pleasures where I can get them and am not in the habit of rejecting beautiful women.”

“I’m not asking you to reject me. Quite the opposite in fact,” I said.

Zevran pulled me to a stop and turned to face me, his hands on my shoulders. He brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. “Please, Skye, I am asking you to consider this. If you feel the same way tomorrow morning, come and find me and I will be more than willing to acquiesces.”

I swayed a bit on my feet, his words coming in slowly through my alcohol fogged brain. “Fine,” I said. “But I still think you’re no fun.” The world suddenly tilted wildly, and I felt the elf’s arms tightened around me, scooping me up. My eyes fluttered shut and I gave way to the exhaustion that had been hunting me since the keep.  
*****  
Zevran carried the Grey Warden through the front doors of the Arl’s estate, her head resting heavily on his shoulder. He’d lost track of the dwarf a while ago, but had no doubt that he’d be able to find his way back. Skye exhaled slowly in his arms, a small smile twisting up her full lips. He smiled gently down at her. Her warmth and softness were intoxicating and her face was so free of the worries that it accumulated through out the day. He could suddenly picture her roaming through wooded vales, crouching in the shadows of trees, watching halla graze. He knew that she was being trained as the next keeper of her tribe when she’d been recruited by the Grey Wardens, that she’d been free. He wished he’d known her then, when her life had been unburdened by the stress of responsibilities. That same persistent strand of hair fell across her eyes and he brushed it aside. Her smile grew at his touch and she curled closer to him. 

“By the Maker, is she all right?” Alistair had appeared in the door way, his face pale with worry. 

Zevran held a finger to his lips. “She’s fine,” he whispered. “Just a little bruised and in need of some ministrations from Wynne.”

“Then why are you carrying her? And where’s Ogrhen?” Alistair looked around, confused.

“The Warden insisted that we stop at the Pearl before returning. She and the dwarf drank a little too much. Ogrhen fell behind somewhere and she needed a little assistance. I figured you wouldn’t be pleased if I left her snoozing at the table.”

“No, you’re right about that.” Alistair rubbed his face. “Thank the Maker she’s safe. Arl Eamon will be wanting to speak to her in the morning. Do you mind taking her to the rest of the way to her room?”

“Of course.”

Alistair clapped the elf on the shoulder. “Thank you, Zevran.” Then the Warden’s eyes narrowed. “And I assume you’ll be leaving her there. Nothing else.”

Zevran smiled. “Of course,” he repeated.

Alistair’s eye lingered on the elf’s back as he carried Skye off to her room, then shook his head as returned to the Arl’s study to relay the good news.

Carefully, Zevran laid the Warden on the bed, making sure her head was supported by a pillow. Her half smile shifted into a frown as her brow furrowed. She mumbled something he didn’t understand, though it sounded like Dalish. 

“Pleasant dreams, mi amore,” he whispered, kissing her gently on the forehead, then straightened and left the girl to sleep.

*****

I awoke to a splitting headache and groaned, rolling so my face was buried in my pillow. Light peaked into the room from under the heavy curtains, then I felt Garrou’s breath on my face and I smiled, opening my eyes into thin slits.

“Hey, sweetheart,” I whispered, then sat up, stretching. Memories from last night were few an far between, but I vaguely remembered warm arms around me and the feeling of perfect peace. That must have been part of a dream I’d had in a drunken slumber. “Alcohol is evil,” I told my hound. “Never partake.” The dog cocked his head to one side, staring at me with his tongue hanging out from between his teeth. “Yeah, you get me.” I ruffled his ears and threw my legs over the edge of my bed, standing and stretching again. I remembered Ogrhen and Zevran coming to get me at the keep, then demanding that we go drink and that was about it. Wynne must have visited me sometime that morning as my bruises were gone along with my twisted ankle.

I was wearing my armor still and was admittedly pleased not to have woken in nothing but my small clothes. That meant I hadn’t made too much of a fool of myself the previous night. I stripped out of my armor and found a fresh change of clothes, pulling on the loose robes and calling Garrou to my side. He leapt off the bed nuzzling up to my side, his stubby tail wagging furiously. 

“Let’s go see about breakfast.” I walked out into the hall, Garrou at my heels. The estate was quiet, but there was an air of something looming. 

“She lives.” The elf’s voice echoed down the hall from behind me and I turned to smile at him.

“You’re looking surprisingly well,” I said. “Why don’t you look hung-over?”

“Because I am not. I decided to let you and the dwarf partake and remain sober to observe the hilarity.”

I winced. “Tell me I didn’t make too much of an ass of myself.”

“You were a perfect lady,” he said. 

“And I take it you were a perfect gentleman.” I pretended to frown. “I’m a bit disappointed. I thought for sure you’d make a move last night. You’re not nearly the rogue I thought you were.”

He came down the hall towards me, a dangerous look on his face. “Oh, my dear Warden,” he grabbed my wrist and spun me against the wall, eliciting a yelp of surprise from me. “I am every bit the rogue you think I am.” His lips were inches from my own, eyes dark with desire. 

My own breath came quickly through slightly parted lips. “Must it always end this way with us?” I managed. “Me against something hard, daring you to try something, you inevitably giving up.”

He chuckled and released me, taking a few steps back. “How can I stand against such a sharp tongue?” He pressed a hand over his heart. “I do not believe any man could.”

I grinned. “Glad you recognize who has the power here. By the way,” I said. “I really didn’t do anything last night, or say anything?”

“Nothing that I found offensive.”

‘That’s not particularly reassuring coming from you, Antivan.”

“Well you did ask why I was so beautiful, because apparently men aren’t supposed to be beautiful,” he admitted.

I covered my face with my hands, hiding my blush. “I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“By the Creators,” I muttered. “You told me I didn’t make a fool out of myself.”

“But you were a very endearing fool, it that makes you feel any better.”

“Not particularly.”


	9. Loose Ends

Zevran grabbed my shoulder and spun me around, having caught up to me. I snarled and jerked away from him. “Don’t touch me,” I hissed, my hand flaring a dark, angry red.

The elf held up his hands in surrender. “I am trying to help you, my dear,” he said, voice almost gentle. 

“Help me?” I laughed humorlessly. “When have you ever helped anyone but yourself.”

“Ah this is true, save for now. Please, my dear, hear me out.” I crossed my arms, waiting for him to continue. 

He sighed when he realized he wouldn’t be getting a more receptive audience. “You did what had to be done. Keeping Logain alive would have only divided our few allies. Your actions were practical.”

“To hell with practicality. To hell with all of this. These people keep asking me to make decisions on things I know nothing about. Why is that? I just wanted to be left alone? But you-,” I waved my arms. “You elvhen’alas keep coming to me. When will you get it through your thick skulls that I don’t know what I’m doing.” I kicked the wall and instantly regretted it, swearing as my toe began to throb.

“Did that make you feel better?” Zevran asked dryly, one elegant brow arched.

“Not really,” I grumbled.

“Would you like to shout again?”

“No, I’m done.” Garrou butted his head against my hand and I smiled down at him. “I’m sorry, Zev. I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you.”

He shrugged. “Do not concern yourself, mía.” He smiled, then cocked his head slightly. “May I ask why killing Logain bothers you so much? Death is not something you are unfamiliar with.”

I looked at the ground, considering his question. He was right. I had killed plenty during our attempts to stop the blight and not everyone had been a darkspawn. But there was something wholly different about executing a man who was not holding a sword. “Because everyone, everything, I have killed up until now, would have killed me. My actions were my own and were of self preservation. But killing Logain…” I trailed off, rubbing the back of my neck as I struggled to find the words. “I killed him because others told me it was something I had to do. He believed that what he was doing was right and, ultimately, his goals were very near our own. It was just his methods that were different.” I swallowed hard. “I do not believe that Logain was a bad man. I do not believe he was someone who had to die,” I said quietly.

Zevran was silent for a long moment, his fingers laced behind his back. I shot him a sideways glance, trying to read his face, but the assassin had worked it into a careful mask of neutrality. “You are worried you’ve compromised your convictions by allowing yourself to be manipulated into killing him,” he said finally, more a statement than a question.

“I see so many do the right thing for all the wrong reasons. Practically, politically it was the right thing to do. But it should not have been my hand that held the sword.”

“Had it been Alistair’s hand, Anora would have never agreed to the match,” Zevran reasoned.

I bobbed my head. “Yes, but he deserved a proper trial. Not an execution fueled by hot headed rage.”

“So you would rather a faceless executioner silence him than you, a Grey Warden heading the battle?” Zevran asked, pausing to look at me, eyes still inscrutable. I got the sense that there was a right answer to this question, but I hadn’t a clue as to what it might be.

Finally, I sighed and scrubbed my face with my hands. “May the dread wolf take you, you bastard. I don’t know what I should have done, only that what I did makes my stomach turn.”

Zevran’s face cleared. “Welcome to the world of politics and intrigue, my dear. Nothing you do here will be particularly rewarding.”

“Thanks for that,” I said dryly.

He shrugged. “You are the one that let yourself be drawn in.” He cocked his head to look at me. “Why is that, may I ask?”

I snorted. “Because I’m an idiot, that’s why.”

“Well I was not going to say it.” 

I rolled my eyes and smacked his arm lightly. “Takes one to know one.”

“I am glad to see you have grown into your maturity,” he said then walked slowly down the alley.

I caught up to him and we walked along in a comfortable silence. As much as I hated to admit it, I’d grown to like the assassin. He was honest in his own way and didn’t need me to solve his problems. I felt like I could talk to him with complete honesty. We’d both done things in our lives that most might condemn, and I at least found comfort in the fact that he wouldn’t judge me for the things I told him. And if he did, he’d tell me.

I sighed and rubbed my face. “I suppose it’s time I go back.”

“Only if you want to,” the elf said. I shot him a look. “We could always run away, become a mercenary team, make obscene amount of money, and have wild uninhibited sex.”

“That’s sweet, but I think the Blight would catch up to us eventually. May as well stop it now.”

“Well, should you ever change your mind…” he trailed off and I nodded.

“I may take you up on it in the coming days.”

He pressed a hand over his heart and bowed slightly. “I am your man.”

As we went to leave the alley, Garrou froze, then turned and began to growl. I looked in the same direction. A man in light armor appeared at the top of a flight of stairs. The mabari’s growling increased, his ears flattened against his head. 

“Easy,” I said quietly, putting a hand on his head.

“At last, the infamous Grey Warden.” The man smiled spreading his arms. His voice was warm, even friendly, but the way he held himself told a different story. He was a killer. “And Zevran, I’m glad you are here too. It is you I truly came to see.”

Zevran took a step forward, placing himself slightly in front and just to my left. “Taliesen,” he said, matching the other man’s friendly tone.

“That Taliesen?” I asked quietly. Zevran nodded.

“He’s an old friend,” Taliesen explained. Movement caught my eyes and I noticed men slowly surrounding us. I counted eight of them. 

Zevran folded his arms. “Why have you come here, old friend?”

“Like I said, I’m looking for you.” The man took a few steps down the stairs. “Come back to the Crows, Zevran. People make mistakes. We’ll tell them a story explaining your absence.”

“We could do that, yes,” the elf said. 

“Of course, I’d have to be dead,” I said dryly.

“That you would.” Zevran smiled at me. “But I am no fool, despite your own convictions, and I’m not about to let that happen.” He turned to Taliesen. “I’m sorry my friend. This is not a fight you can win. Walk away.”

The other assassin frowned. “You’ve gone soft,” he said. “It happened with Rinna and now with her.”

Zevran and I looked at each other, eyebrow raised slightly. Then we both burst into laugher. “You’ve got to be kidding,” I managed between breaths. “Oh, now that’s a good one. Thank you for that, I’ve not laughed enough as of late.” I bent at the waist, trying to catch my breath. The elf too was struggling to regain his composure. Taliesen was looking at us like we had both gone mad. He glanced at his men, then back at Zevran.

“You really have gone soft in the head,” he said.

“Perhaps,” Zevran said, finally catching his breath enough to speak. “But I am wise enough to know that going against this woman is choosing death.”

“We shall see.”

“You should have stayed in Antiva, my friend.” Zevran drew his blades as I took my hand off Garrou’s head.  
I slipped my sword off my back, the blade humming with my power. I inhaled slowly summoning a spell that would ice those approaching us from the rear. 

“Get them,” Taliesen ordered.

The men charged us. I nodded at Zevran, who went after his former friend. I turned and released my spell, freezing three of them before they could get their swords out of their scabbards. Garrou leapt forward, sinking his teeth into the leader’s thigh, dragging him to the ground. The four others lunged at me and I ducked backwards, letting off a quick mental blast that dazed them. As quickly as I could, I sliced through one neck, a gout of blood spraying into the air. His companions recovered quickly however and three swords slashed at my body. I blocked one with my own sword and dodged the second. The third, however, cut into my side, not deeply enough to be fatal, but enough that it hurt like a bitch. I spat out a curse as I threw a stone fist at the man who’d cut me, sending him flying backwards, hopefully with a crushed sternum. Two left. Garrou came to my rescue before they could do me any more damage. Having finished his man, he leapt on one of the two left, clamping his teeth on the back of his neck. The man went down screaming under teeth and claws. One left. I grinned at him and he paled, raising his sword in front of him. A weak defense. Without hesitation. I sent a lightning bolt into his chest, sending him staggering backwards. Before he could recover, I lopped off his head. With my enemies fallen, I pressed a hand to my bleeding side, starting to heal myself with my remaining energy. 

Zevran had yet to fell Taliesen and the two were dancing around each other, strangely beautiful in their deadly ballet. As far as I could tell, neither had yet to land a blow, yet both had sweat on their brows. Garrou went to help, but I called him back. This was the elf’s fight to finish. As my side knitted closed, Zevran slashed at Taliesen’s neck, missing only by a hair as the other man leaned away from the blow. He lost ground, forced down the stairs as Zevran took the offensive. He stumbled, then flipped finding solid ground at the foot of the stairs. I’d begun to feel the effects of my fight and my mind was perhaps not as sharp as it should have been when Taliesen glanced at me over his shoulder. 

“Laugh all you like,” he said to Zevran. “I know a weakness when I see it.” Before either of us could react, he flicked his wrist and a dagger buried itself in my shoulder a moment later. I yelped in pain and surprise and staggered backwards.

“No,” Zevran snarled, lunging towards Taliesen, who danced backwards and grabbed my arm, spinning me around so my back was against his chest. He yanked the dagger from my shoulder and held it to my throat. 

“One more move and she dies,” the assassin said. I felt a trickle of blood run down my throat. Garrou snarled, but I held out a hand, ordering him to stay. 

Zevran froze, his swords still raised. “Let her go,” he said, his voice tense. “This is between you and me.”

Taliesen laughed. “She was to die, my friend. I am correcting your failure. You were always were soft for the pretty ones.” He kissed my neck, almost gently, but I wanted to recoil from his touch. His nose trailed up my throat and to my jawline as he inhaled. “And she is so very pretty.”

My lip curled with disgust. “You can threaten my life but there’s no need to make me ill while you do so,” I snapped.

“Speak again and I think you’ll find it very difficult to breathe,” Taliesen hissed. I bared my teeth in a silent snarl but said nothing. “Drop your weapons, Zevran. It’s over.”

Zevran’s eyes flicked up to mine and I narrowed them, hoping he’d understand that under no uncertain terms should he do as Taliesen asked. I was summoning power for a mind blast, ready to move out of the way of the knife. I blinked my eyes once and Zevran nodded slightly.

“Surrender, elf, and I’ll kill you quickly. Your lady though, I could have some fun with her.”

Zevran’s nostrils flared with anger and I blinked my eyes a second time.

“Now,” Taliesen ordered again.

I blinked my eyes a third time and released my power, bringing my hands up to push away the knife as Teliesen stumbled backwards. The blade sliced into my fingers and palms, hot pain flaring. I ducked and curled into a ball as Zevran leapt over me and plunged his sword into Taliesen’s heart. The man gurgled and looked surprised to see a blade protruding from his chest. Blood stained his teeth as he fell to the ground. 

Before his eyes closed, Zevran was by my side. “Still alive?”

I chuckled, then winced as the laughter pulled at my still healing side. I was rubbish at healing spells and wished Wynne was there. She’d have me up and moving before I could blink. Instead I was trying to push down the pain enough to stand. 

“I’m fine,” I said and got to my feet, pushing my magic towards my hands.

Zevran noticed the blood and took my hands in his. “You know, my dear, it is usually preferable to grab the hilt, not the blade.”

“That’s what they tell me,” I said, wincing again. 

“You should try listening for a change.” He saw the blood on my side. “How many times did you let them get you?”

“What can I say? Not everybody can be a trained assassin.”

Zevran smiled. “No, I suppose not. Though,” he looked down at Taliesen’s corpse, then at the carnage around us. “I am not sure I can call myself an assassin any more. The Crows will think I’m dead after this, at least for a time. For the first time in my life, I am free.”

“What are you going to do?” The cuts on my fingers had begun to close, the pain receding. 

The elf considered this, his eyes on the ground. “I could travel, go far away where the Crows couldn’t find me.”

“I hear Orlais is lovely this time of year,” I joked, though part of me wanted to tell him to stay. I’d miss our teasing banter if he left. To be honest, I’d just miss him.

“Indeed, but I think I may stay and see this out to the end. There is no worthier cause than saving the world, yes?” He looked up, almost shyly, like I might reject him.

“It’s up to you, Zev. You can do whatever you want to do.”

He looked confused, then anxious. “Yes, but what do you want me to do? Would you have me stay with you?”

My eyes softened. “I wouldn’t say no.”

“You are being maddeningly unhelpful,” Zevran said, though he stepped forward as he said this.

I felt my breath catch in my throat. “I’m a woman. What else am I supposed to be?”

“Kind. Comforting. Gentle.”

I snorted and the brief moment was broken. “Then you really don’t know me.”

“Perhaps I do not.” He glanced down at my still red and raw cuts. “But I know you well enough to know that those are uncomfortable. Let us get you back to the estate and Wynne.”

“That sounds lovely.”


	10. Accusations

I was still a little loopy after Wynne’s healing and subsequent scolding. She had berated me for going off on my own with only Zevran and Garrou for protection. Once she was done with me, she sent me to my room as if I were a small child, ordering me to stay in bed until the next morning. I’d meekly complied, hoping to appease her. So, now, I was bed ridden, curled up with a book I’d found on one of the many shelves. It was a history of the Dalish, a subject I was already familiar with, but enjoyed reading anyway. It was like cuddling up with a book of comforting bedtime stories. I was in a half doze, when there was a knock on my door. I blinked awake and crawled sleepily out of bed, forgetting for the moment that I was in nothing but my small clothes and a large loose shirt that ended mid-thigh

I opened the door to Zevran, his hand raised in mid knock. His eyes widened slightly when he saw me and darted downwards to where the shirt had slipped off my shoulder, exposing my new shiny pink scar from Taliesen’s dagger. I thought I saw him wince, but it passed so quickly, I assumed I must have imagined it. 

“How are you?” he asked, his usual smile on his face

I waved my hand vaguely, the potion Wynne had given me for the pain making me feel like I was slightly drunk. “Healing,” I said, then wandered away from the door and back to bed, leaving the door open. Zevran followed me into the room, closing the door behind him. I sat on the bed, cross-legged and watching him. He looked unsure of himself for the first time and I noticed he was fingering something in his left hand.  
I cocked my head. “You’re looking awfully serious,” I said, then pulled a face. “I’m dying, aren’t I?” This was only partly joking. Part of me was still convinced that Wynne would be upset enough with me to let me die.

Zevran chuckled. “I do not believe you are, no.”

I sighed and flopped backwards. “Oh, good.” 

“Skye.” 

His voice had me sitting up. Something winked in his left hand, something sparkly. “Mmm,” I said.

“There is something I would like you to have.” He held out what he had been fumbling with, a small diamond stud. “It is something I picked up on my first mission. I took it off a rich merchant. In fact,” he smiled at the memory. “It was really the only thing he as wearing at the time. But after your help with killing Taliesen, I think you should have it. You-,” he paused and cleared his throat. “What you have done has meant a great deal to me.” He offered it to me.

My eyes narrowed as I looked at him suspiciously. “You’re trying to bribe me?” I asked. “Why?”

He sighed impatiently. “No, I am hoping to level the debt that I have accrued.”

“So you are trying to bribe me.” I waggled my finger at him. “Don’t think you can buy me with shiny baubles.”

“I am not trying to bride you,” he insisted. “I am trying to thank you, you foolish woman.”

“Psh.” I waved him away. “You’re behaving very oddly.”

“Well you are a very frustrating woman,” he growled, stuffing the earring back into his pocket. “You don’t want the earring, you don’t get the earring, it’s that simple.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

He threw his hands up in the air and stomped out of my room, leaving me sitting, a little bewildered, on my bed.

*****

I woke up with a headache and the vague sense that I should be dreading something. Garrou was stretched out beside me, snoring gently, and I rolled over and let my arm flop over his side. He grunted, rolled over, and began licking my face.

“Get off,” I growled and pushed him away. He grinned at me and rolled to his feet, prancing around on the bed, wagging his stumpy tail. “You idiot of a dog,” I said fondly and pushed at his side with my feet. He flopped down on to my legs, his tongue lolling out from the corner of his mouth. 

I sat up and ruffled his ears, then wriggled my legs out from under him and threw them over the side of the bed. I began to pull on my clothes, then gathered my armor from where I had left it strewn around the room the night before. After Wynne’s healing, I had been less than careful about how I had put each piece away. I found one of my gloves under the bed and Garrou had to bring me my leg pieces. Fortunately, my sword had been propped up against the wall and had been cleaned since the fight with Taliesen. I slid it into the sheath across my back and called Garrou. He pranced over to my side, knocking against my legs, forcing me to stagger to one side. 

“Ass,” I grumbled and he grinned at me again. 

We left my room and went in search of breakfast. I followed the mabari’s lead, his nose far stronger than mine. He led us down to the great hall were Oghren was dozing over a steaming bowl of oatmeal, a tankard of something next to his hand. Leliana sat across from him, chewing on a piece of apple as she looked over a page covered in cramped writing. She glanced up when I sat down beside her, smiling when she saw me.

“It is good to see that you have recovered,” she said.

I helped myself to a slice of her apple as a servant appeared at my shoulder with another bowl of oatmeal and several other smaller bowls with honey and berries. “I think I’ll get Wynne a fruit basket when this is all over.”

The bard laughed as I spooned honey onto my oatmeal. “She has indeed been most generous with her magic. Do you remember when Alistair ran into the hive of bees?” 

I snorted around my spoonful of oatmeal. “The poor boy,” I managed after a moment. “I’ve never seen so many hives on one man before.”

“I thought Wynne was going to give him a few more,” she said. 

“Right?” I popped a blackberry in my mouth. “Sometimes her healing can be more punishing than the wounds.”

Leliana nodded her agreement, then cocked her head. “By the way, you and Zevran…”

“Me and Zevran what?”

She rested her chin in her hands and smiled wickedly. “Please, you two have been flirting since you first spared him. You are telling me that you are not together?”

I snorted for the second time that morning. “No. Definitely not. No. No, never. Never ever.”

“Mmm, hmm.” She quirked an eyebrow at me. “You are protesting far too much. She is protesting far too much, is she not, Oghren?”

“Aye,” the dwarf grunted, his eyes still closed.

“Stay out of this, beard face,” I grumbled at him.

“You and the elf are either rutting or will be rutting in the next few days,” he said, his eyes blinking open.

I threw a couple berries at the dwarf and he went back to sleep. I returned my attention back to Leliana. “By the creators, what makes you think I could ever be interested in him?”

She gave me a flat look. “You are not this oblivious?

I tugged my ear lobe, fiddling with one of my studs. “Okay, sure, I’ve flirted, but he started it. And Zevran flirts with everyone. That doesn’t mean we have any sort of special connection.”

“Skye,” Leliana said. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Suddenly, last night came rushing back. Zevran trying to give me the earing and my rejection. “Fenedhis,” I groaned and let my head thump against the table. “I am such an idiot.”

The bard gently patted my head. “I saw him in the courtyard an hour ago.”

“I can’t talk to him after what happened last night,” I said. “I told him not to try to bribe me.”

Leliana pulled her hand back. “What?”

“Nothing,” I sat up. “You said he was in the courtyard.”

“Yes.”

“I supposed I’d better go apologize, I said and pushed away from the table. 

As I walked away, I heard Oghren mutter, “They’re definitely about to rut.”

*****

Zevran darted around the straw figure, slashing at the limbs. None of the other soldiers had wanted to fight him after he’d bloodied the last few. Now, he was reduced to fighting this ridiculous dummy. But after a sleepless night, he had some serious tension to work out. Sweat beaded on his skin as he danced around in quick circles, his chest heaving.

After leaving Skye’s room the night before, he’d tried to sleep, but ended up walking around Denerim for most of the night. Sometimes he wished he’d killed her the numerous times he’d had the opportunity. She seemed more trouble than she was worth. She was the only woman he’d know who could drive him this mad this easily. When he’d offered her the earring, he’d hoped to relieve some of the debt that he owed her, but instead, she’d rejected him without so much as a blink.

“That woman,” he spat as he hacked off one of the dummy’s arms. It burst open in a haze of straw and dust. “Cabron.”

“Did he say something rude about your mother?” Her voice had him turning on his heel, his blades still raised.

Skye was watching him, her arms crossed. There was a small smile on her lips.

“Was there something you wanted, Warden?” he asked.

She grimaced. “I wanted to apologize. I was an ass last night.”

He relaxed slightly. “An apology is not necessary, Warden, you did nothing wrong.”

“Yes, I did. You made a nice gesture, which, let’s be honest was a big step for you, and I accused you of bribing me,” she said. “So I’m sorry. If there’s anything I can do…”

He smirked. “There is one thing.”

“Besides that,” she said and rolled her eyes. 

“I only wanted a partner with which to practice,” he said, raising his blades. “Why must you always turn to sex?”

“Can you blame me?” She drew her sword and sunk into a defensive stance.

*****

Sweat stood out on Zevran’s brow as we circled each other slowly. There was an unusual tension in his shoulders that immediately caught my attention. Since our first skirmishes we’d practiced together most evenings and I had been slowly getting better, though I had yet to beat him. He was always fluid, his blades truly becoming extensions of his own arms. Now, however, there was something just a little off about him.

I darted forward and he knocked my sword aside, following up with a swift punch to my gut. I avoided the blow with a shift of my hip and tried to knock him off balance by shouldering him in the chest. He surprised me by wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me flush against his chest. A sudden wave of heat rolled up my body and my face flushed and my fingers opened unexpectedly, my sword dropping to the cobblestones. The clang of metal on stone was harsh in the still air of the courtyard. It suddenly seemed hard to breathe.

Zevran’s whiskey eyes bore into mine and he leaned forward. “I have decided to give up my seduction, Warden,” he whispered. “It was clearly not meant to be.”

“Oh…ah,” I tried to focus on somewhere other than his eyes and found myself looking at his mouth, his lips. “Okay then.”

He let go of me and took a step back, leaving me trying to conceal that fact I was trying very hard to breathe. I swallowed hard.

“Now, if there is anything else,” he gestured at the straw dummy. “I’ve a dummy to dismember.” He turned his back on me, leaving me to wander away, confused and strangely hurt.


	11. Letting Go

The shrieks came out of nowhere, isolating members of our group. I leapt to my feet, unsheathing my sword as Garrou snarled at the approaching beast. I plunged the blade into it’s sternum, but it continued its charge down to my hilt. Ducking under a scything set of claws, I released a shot of electricity into the thing’s face. It lived up to its name and reeled backwards, howling in pain. I jerked my sword free and sliced open its throat. Dark blood ran down its chest and it collapsed in a shivering mess. 

Hardly pausing over my kill, I froze a shriek that was about to take off Wynne’s head. Sten followed up my spell with a massive blow from his broad sword, shattering what was left of the creature. The fight continued, the dark beasts wicked shadows in the flickering of the central fire. Most of my companions were reduced to shouts in the darkness, calls for help and war cries. Oghren’s bellow could be heard most clearly as he swung his axe. As the last of the creatures fell, most of us sank to the ground, exhausted.

“Everyone still alive?” Alistair panted from somewhere off to my left. The group sounded off, each of us alive, though not completely well.

“It is not safe to be here anymore,” Sten rumbled as he wiped his sword on the grass. “We should move.”

I opened my mouth to agree, but was interrupted as someone began to wheeze behind me. Thinking Garrou was coughing up a bone, I turned to hush him. Instead, I saw a creature, bent nearly bent double, its skin dark with disease. I jerked my sword back up, ready to attack.

“Lethallan,” it croaked and my blood ran cold as my sword fell from limp fingers. I knew that voice.

“Tamlen,” I breathed. “By the Creators.” I took a hesitant step forward, but he flinched away from me.

“Come no closer, leth-lethallan,” he stuttered, skittering away.

I reached out a hand. “Tamlen, please.”

He winced away again, then took off into the trees. Without hesitation, I followed closely on his heals. For whatever he was, he moved incredibly quickly. He darted between trees, nearly invisible in the shadows. In the back of my mind, I could hear the shouts of my companions following at my heals.

“Tamlen,” I called out, my voice begging him to stop. The knot that had been tied deep in my center since Tamlen had disappeared roiled and tangled further, my mind working furiously to untangle it. He was alive. I could save him.

We suddenly emerged into a clearing, moonlight casting the bushes into stark relief. Tamlen had frozen in the center, his back to me, hunched and muttering to himself. “No, no, no. Mustn’t come, mustn’t follow.”

I paused a few feet from him. “Please, Tamlen.” Slowly, I reached out to touch his shoulder. 

He froze at my touch. “Lethallan, he whimpered, turning his head slightly. “Run, please. Not. Safe.”

“Never.” I pulled him around to face me, cupping his cheek in one hand. “I thought you were dead,” I whispered and rested my forehead against his. “I’m not losing you again. Ma’arlath.”

For a moment, the blight covering his features cleared and I was holding him again. The skin under my hand was warm and his blue eyes were clear. “Ma sa’lath,” he murmured, his thumb brushing across my cheek bone. But, instead of feeling that flash of warmth that I had felt so long ago, I remembered Zevran reaching across the table at the Pearl, doing the same thing. Whiskey eyes replaced the blue ones, and I smiled sadly.

“It’s time for me to go,” Tamlen said.

I nodded, swallowing against the lump in my throat. I pulled him down to me and kissed him, closing my eyes against the oncoming tears.

“I will always love you, lethallan,” he whispered against my lips. “But now you must end it.”

“Be at peace.” I pulled my slim dagger from my belt and, sliding it easily through his ribs, plunged it into his heart.

Tamlen gasped and became dead weight in my arms. Together, we sank to the ground, his head on my shoulder. I stroked the nape of his neck until his final breath. Even then, I held his body, knowing the face had gone back to its blighted features, the skin blistered and dark with corruption. Gently, I rocked him back and forth, singing quietly.

Hahren na melana sahlin  
emma ir abelas  
souver’inan isala hamin,  
vhenan him dor’felas  
in ithenera na revas  
vir sulahn’nehn  
vir dirthera  
vir samahl la numin  
vir lath sa’vunin

As the eulogy faded away in to the shadows, I lay him to rest on the grass, closing his eyes with a brush of my palm. Finally, I kissed his forehead, then pressed my hand to his chest. Sparks appeared under my palm as his clothing caught on fire. As the flames grew larger, I stepped away from him, taking a few steps back to watch as his body burned. The fire illuminated the clearing, pushing back the moonlight, throwing long shadows across the grass. 

As the pyre grew, I became aware of my companions standing behind me, quite and respectful. Tears gathered in the corner of my eyes, then dripped down my cheeks as I finally let him go. 

When all that was left of what was once Tamlen were ashes in the grass, I turned to face them.

“Who was that?” Alistair asked quietly, his face soft.

“He was one of my tribe. We grew up together and he was with me when I…” I paused and cleared my throat. “When I was infected by the blight. I thought he was dead.”

They were silent for a long moment, then Leliana closed the distance between us and wrapped me in a hug. I stiffened for a moment, then relaxed. She was joined a moment later by Alistair, Wynne, and Oghren. Sten towered awkwardly above us and patted the top of my head. Morrigan snorted, but relented when Leliana snagged her arm and pulled her into the group. The only one missing was Zevran. The hug lasted for a long minute, then I chuckled weakly. 

“Okay, I do need to breathe,” I murmured and they released me, giving me a few pats on the back and shoulders. “Thanks,” I said, suddenly feeling very awkward and scratched the back of my neck. “But-uh-we should probably get back to camp, make sure the shrieks didn’t get Bodhan and Sandal.” They nodded and we trooped back to the camp in silence.

*****

I pulled aside the tent flap and crept off into the trees, feeling the damp grass under my toes. I breathed in the scent of the forest, closing my eyes as I wandered through the trees. Night creatures rustled in the undergrowth, scavenging for food, living their little lives. Somewhere, an owl screeched and I decided to follow the sound, stopping only when I came to a silver ribbon of a brook. Water burbled over wide smooth stones and I found a spot on the bank, curling one leg under me, letting the other dangle in the cool water. I exhaled slowly and turned my face upwards, letting the soft breeze drift over my skin. I don’t know how long I sat like that, breathing slowly in the night air. Something had shifted deep inside me, a peace I hadn’t felt since before finding the Eluvian.

A branch snapped behind me and my lips twitched upwards. “I hoped you would find me,” I said. Zevran sat beside me on the bank and I opened my eyes. He was looking into the depths of the water, his legs tucked up to his chest, arms crossed on top of his knees. 

“He was not just a friend,” he said without looking at me.

“No.” I leaned back on my hands. “I guess you could say Tamlen was my first love. We never really talked about it, but I assumed we were always going to be together.” I inhaled slowly before continuing. “When he disappeared and I couldn’t find him, I blamed myself. I let him touch that cursed mirror. I didn’t talk him out it. I couldn’t even find a body to send to the Creators.” Zevran rested his chin on his arms, but let me continue. “Why should I live while Tamlen died? But now,” I smiled at the water. “I had my chance to say goodbye. It’s like I found that person I was before all this started and I’ve been able to reconcile it with who I am now.” I looked down at my toes. “I loved Tamlen then, yes, and he will always be part of who I am. But I’ve moved on. And I know that you’re not looking for any sort of emotional connection and I’m not asking anything from you-“ 

Suddenly, arms wrapped around my waist and Zevran pulled me to him. “Zev-“ I gasped, but the elf cut me off, kissing me hard. Heat flared up over my skin and my fingers tangled themselves in his hair. His hands went to either side of my face, cupping my cheeks. I’d idly considered Zevran’s lips, the way his mouth would feel on mine, in dull moments of our travels, but the reality was far and above anything I could have imagined. He tasted like spices and honeyed wine and I pulled him closer to me as our mouths opened, tongues meeting in a flurry of passion. I moaned into him, my back arching with pleasure. My body ached with desire and I tugged him downwards so he hovered over me. He planted an arm on one side of my head, the other drifting down to my hip, fingers tracing slow circles on my bare skin. 

His mouth left mine and trailed down my neck. “Mi amor,” he murmured against my skin. 

My eyebrows raised with surprise and I captured his face between my hands, putting a halt to his attentions. “What does that mean?”

Zevran levered himself up on one elbow and looked down at me, brushing a strand of loose hair out of my eyes. “An assassin must learn to forget about sentiment,” he said slowly. “You must take your pleasures where you can when life is good. To expect anything more would be reckless.” He paused and his eyes drifted away from mine. “I thought it was the same between us. Our flirtations were something to enjoy, a pleasant diversion and little more.” I cocked my head, touched by his awkwardness. He continued after a long moment. “I grew up amongst those who sold the illusion of love and then was trained to make my heart cold in favor of the kill. Everything that I have been taught says what I feel is wrong. Yet I cannot help it. For some time now I have been nothing but confused.”

“Zevran,” I said quietly, touching his cheek. “You’re not answering the question.”

His eyes returned to mine and he smiled gently. “I was getting there.” He took a deep breath. “In Antivan, ‘mi amor’ means ‘my love’.”

“You love me?” I asked quietly.

“Ah-well,” he muttered, inarticulate for the first time since I’d met him.

I laughed. “Ma vhenan,” I said and kissed the tip of my nose. “Hush.”

His brows knitted together. “Your dalish is not helping with my embarrassment.”

“Well if you get to have your little pet name, then I get mine.”

“Are you going to tell me what it means?” he asked. 

“You’re a clever man. Figure it out.”

“You are a wicked woman,” he said and brushed his lips over mine. When I tried to deepen the kiss, he pulled away. I growled low in the back of my throat and narrowed my eyes at him. “I need to know if there is any possibility of a future between us,” he said. 

“With impending events, namely the slaying of an archdemon, I can’t say what might happen. But I do know how I feel about you and if I survive, you and I are going to become a mercenary team that lives a lavish lifestyle filled with rich wine, expensive food, and silk sheets.” 

He grinned. “Ah, this was inevitable, my dear Warden. I knew you would eventually fall for my charms.”

“And here I thought I seduced you,” I said as I began unlacing the ties on his shirt.

He laughed. “I’ve been ensnared and didn’t even know it.” He kissed me again, more deeply this time. “You truly are the perfect woman,” he whispered as I pushed his shirt off his shoulders.

“Sweet talker,” I murmured as he lifted my shirt over my head. I pulled his mouth back to mine and he wrapped his arms back around me, pulling me flush to his chest.


	12. Morning

I traced swirls on Zevran’s naked chest, one of my legs thrown over his hips. I was still half asleep, drowsing in the warm morning sunshine, my head resting on his arm. He was still fully asleep, breath gentle on my neck. Seeing him asleep, I could picture him as a younger man, free of any of the cares that had accumulated on his shoulders. His eyelids fluttered slightly and his fingers twitched on my thigh. He stirred and his eyes blinked open. 

“You know, for an assassin, you’re quite a deep sleeper,” I said. 

“Mmm,” he murmured, a smile tugging up the corners of his mouth. He shifted closer, kissing the corner of my mouth. My eyes closed with pleasure. 

“Zevran,” I said. 

“Mmm?”

“Your hand is on my ass.”

“Mmm hmm.”

I laughed and curled into his chest. “We should get dressed. I’m sure the others are wondering where we are.”

“Let them wonder,” he growled and shifted me so I straddled his hips

I leaned forward on my forearms, playing with the few sprigs of hair on his chest. “You’re terrible. I’ve an archedemon to kill and here you are taking up all of my time.”

“Would you rather I stop?” he asked, smirking up at me. His fingers ran up and down the skin on my thighs.

“Don’t you dare,” I muttered, then kissed him. A low rumbled built up in his chest as his hands tightened on my skin. 

When we broke for air, Zevran looked up at me with a soft expression. I cocked my head. “What?”

“I still have the earring,” he said. “I would offer it as a token of affection, if you would have it.” He put on a straight face. “And I promise I am not trying to bribe you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Because you know I will not accept bribes.”

He found the earring in the pocket of his discarded pants and offered it to me. I took it from him and let the sunlight play through the crystal. “It’s beautiful, Zev. Thank you.” I removed the stud in the lobe of my left ear and replaced it with his gift. He reached up and fingered the earing.

“I have to say it looks better on you,” he said. “Though if you ever tell anyone I said that, I side with the archdemon.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I gave him a final kiss before rolling off him to begin gathering my clothes. He crossed his arms behind his head as he watched me get dressed. I threw his pants at him, hitting him square in the face.

“Oh, I’ve been wounded,” he called from under the fabric. “Struck down in my prime.”

“If you get dressed now,” I said, “You get to walk me into camp and everyone will know we slept together.”

He pulled on pants. “I am not that crass,” he said. 

“Fine. Then no one needs know.”

His eyes narrowed. “I take it all back.”

“Mmm hmm.” I laced up my leggings then pulled the elf to his feet.

We walked back to the camp, the backs of our hands brushing against each other. When he finally laced his fingers through mine, I smiled at the ground, a light blush coloring my cheeks. Even after last night, it was a strange and beautiful thing to be this close to him. I gently bumped my shoulder against his and he exhaled a quiet chuckle.

Before we reached the edge of the camp, I pulled us to a stop. “Oghren and Leliana are going to be so smug,” I muttered. 

“I am a little smug, to be perfectly honest,” he said.

I shot him a sideways glare, then heaved a heavy sigh. “Let’s do this.”

“You know, we do not have to let them know we are together,” he said.

“No, I don’t care. I’ll deal with the smugness. Besides, I just slept with a badass assassin, so I’m set.”

He pulled me to his side and kissed my temple. “If we are lucky, we will both be killed by the archdemon and will not have to put up with their gloating.”

“If we’re lucky.” I took another deep breath, then pulled him forward into the camp’s clearing. When we reached the line of tents, we separated, moving off to our respective areas to begin packing up our supplies. I caught a knowing glance between Oghren and Leliana, but focused on my pack. They would talk, but I didn’t care. I was happy, truly happy for the first time in months. Zevran played a huge part in that, yes, but I felt like I had finally come to terms with being a Grey Warden… just in time to get eaten by the very thing I had to destroy. Yippee.


	13. Goodbyes

The flames of Denerim lit up the sky line in front of us and I could hear screams echoing from with its gates. Alistair came up behind me, putting a hand on my shoulder. 

“We can do this, Skye,” he said. 

I snorted. “Sure. All we have to do is fight through an entire city filled with darkspawn in order to face down an archdemon, who very probably comes with its own personal army of yet more darkspawn. This is going to be fun.”

“And I recommend that you take only a small force,” Riordan said, appearing from the crowd milling around us.

“Fantastic,” I grumbled. Garrou bumped his head against my thigh and I rubbed his ears gently.

“Because you and Alistair are the only two, besides me, who will be able to kill the archdemon, I suggest you both go, along with two others.”

Wynne stepped forward. “I would like to come, if you would have me. I know the trouble you two get up to and you will need my magic to keep you on your feet.”

I nodded, smiling for the first time. “Thank you, Wynne.”

“I am an old woman, Skye. I cannot think of a better way to go than fighting by your side to stop a Blight.”

“Hey,” I pointed at her. “You’re coming out of this alive so you can kick a whole new generation of mages into shape.”

“If you say so,” she said. “But know that I am proud, infinitely proud, to have called you friend.

I nodded, then turned to find Zevran grinning at me. “You’ll find me by your side as well.”

“You’re sure?” I asked. “Didn’t we talk about sidekicks getting it in the end?”

“Mi amor,” he murmured. “Failing to assassinate you was the luckiest thing that ever happened to me. By your side, I would willingly storm the gates of the Dark City itself, do not doubt it.”

I shook my head slowly, a rueful smile on my face. “You are an idiot, ma vhenan.” I stood on my toes and kissed him. “But I am glad to call you my idiot. Thank you… for everything.” We pulled away from each other slowly, and I turned my attention to Alistair. “Part of me wants to leave you here,” I said to my fellow Grey Warden. “The chances of coming out of this alive are less than ideal. If I die, you will be the only person who has a chance of rallying the people to continue the good fight.”

He frowned. “We started this fight together, we are going to end it together, whether that means in death or in victory. I don’t know if Morrigan’s… ritual will work, or if it was even real, and we may not even have the chance to strike that final blow. So let me say now what an honor it has been to fight by your side, to be your friend.”

“I will say that I never thought I would find friendship with a shemlen, especially not one who is such a dolt,” I said fondly. “And I will be glad to have you by my side.”

He stuck out his hand and I clasped his forearm tightly. “Till the end, Sister.”

“Until the end, Brother,” I repeated.

“Now let’s go find that archdemon and kick its ass.” He gave my arm a final squeeze before breaking the grasp. My three companions moved to stand by my side as I turned to face those staying behind. 

“Oghren,” I said. “Lead them. Keep them safe.”

“Aye.” He saluted me sharply. “You took in a drunken disgrace, Warden. You gave me a cause, a reason to fight, and you helped me find the one woman that would put up with me. It would be an honor to fight and die for you.”

“No way, short stack,” I said. “You owe me a drink. You’re not getting out of paying up just by dying.”

“Then you’d better kill that sodding creature,” he growled. “Let the stone turn red from the blood of heroes.  
Today I will be the warrior you taught me to be.”

“Give them hell,” I said as he stepped aside, Sten taking his place. 

“We have reached the battle field at last. Are you ready?” he asked.

“As I’ll ever be.”

“The arishok asked what is the blight and I stand here looking into its eye and still I do not have an answer for him, but perhaps you do.”

“I have no answers,” I said. “But I’ll teach you how to make cookies after all this is over.”

His lips twitched upwards in what might have been a smile. “I think I would like that.” He nodded sharply. 

“You have carried us this far, do not doubt that,” he said, stepping back before I had a chance to reply.

Leliana stepped forward. “So this is it,” she said, looking around at the carnage. “This is the end. It is strange to think all our fates will be decided in a matter of hours.” She frowned. “I wish I could go with you.”

“I need you to make sure Oghren and Sten don’t go charging off into the middle of the hoard. Watch their backs.”

“Of course.” She pulled me into a tight hug before I could protest. “Know that I would have gladly stood by your side, even to the death. You have been a true friend.”

I patted her back. “As have you,” I said, somewhat awkwardly.

She released me. “I will be very cross with you if you do not return.”

“I would not risk your wrath,” I said chuckling. Then I bowed my head slightly to her. “May the Maker watch over you.” The words tasted odd in my mouth, but they felt right for the moment.

The bard smiled. “May the dread wolf never catch your scent.” She stepped back. “I will see you soon.”

“You know, I thought you an odd, skinny creature when we first met,” Morrigan said from off to my left. “I could not comprehend why my mother would risk so much to save you.”

“And I thought you were a colossal bitch,” I replied, grinning at the witch. “But it turns out you’re a colossal bitch that I respect.”

She took a step toward me. “And, though I knew nothing of friendship before we met, I will always consider you such.”

“Don’t get all weepy on me now,” I said. “It’s going to ruin my whole perception of you.”

Her soft expression turned back into her usual frosty scowl. “It is quite like you to ruin such a moment.” She crossed her arms and glowered at me. “You know I will be gone after this, no matter the outcome.”

“Yes, I know,” I said lightly. “Off to raise your old god baby.” I waved my hand airily. “Do try to remember us little people when you return to conquer Thedas.”

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, as she shook her head slightly. “Live well, my friend. Live gloriously.”

“You too,” I said simply. I was about to speak to Riorden, when I felt a warm head butt against me thigh. Garrou whined and sat heavily, looking up at me with sad eyes. I squatted and ruffled his ears. “Sorry, sweetheart,” I murmured. “Not this time. I need you to keep an eye on them.” He licked my face, leaving a trail of slobber behind. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, burying my nose in his warm shoulder. He panted in my ear, but when I let him go and stood, he wagged him stumpy tail, grinning at me. “Good boy,” I murmured.

“Are you ready?” Riordan asked and I nodded, looking at the gate into the city.

“Let’s do this.”

*****

The archdemon howled as another bolt from the ballista stuck into its hide. I could hear Zevran’s laugh over the sounds of battle as he loaded another, getting ready to fire once again. I ducked under a scything blow from a genlock, then lashed out with my foot, catching it in the chest. The creature staggered backwards and I took off its head. It collapsed as its head bounced across the stones. I took advantage of the momentary lull to chug a lyrium potion, feeling mana flood back into my body. Alistair was busy harrying the archdemon, slashing at its hind quarters, keeping its attention off me and Wynne. She had received a nasty cut across her thigh and I was keeping her safe while it healed. 

Zevran loosed another bolt from his ballista, this one catching the beast in the jaw. It screamed again and whipped its head around to look at the elf. Dark power boiled from its mouth as it spat a dark cloud at him. He dove to one side, rolling down the ramp and disappearing into a skirmishing group of darkspawn and elves. My heart stopped, only restarting when I saw him resurface, a grin still pasted on his face. As the dragon’s power dissipated, he charged back up the ramp to the ballista, reaching for another bolt. 

I smiled and returned my attention to a group of approaching darkspawn . My hand flashed out, sending a chain of lightening between their bodies. Several of them dropped, twitching on the cobblestones. The rest however, continued forward. I ground my teeth together, waiting for my wards to spring up. When they were within half a dozen feet of us, light flared up as they triggered my paralyzing trap. The front leaders froze as the others collided in a mess of flailing limbs. As they struggled to right themselves, I sent a steam of ice into their midst, freezing them into a massive ball. I followed this up with a stone fist, which shattered it.

“Turn your attentions on the archdemon,” Wynne called out and I did so, summoning a blizzard. 

“Alistair,” I yelled. “Move.”

He saw me, with my hands raised above my head, and charged away from the beast, going to help a group of elves. I released the spell and the archdemon was suddenly lost in a blizzard. 

Zevran suddenly appeared by my side, a bloody cut slicing across his forehead. “Ballista was broken,” he said by way of explanation. He jutted his chin at the only one near enough to be used effectively. “I need to get to that one.”

“You do see that group of darkspawn between here and there,” I said, sweat popping out on my brow as I struggled to maintain the spell.

“That’s why I need your help.”

I looked back at Wynne, who got shakily to her feet. “Go, I’ll be fine.”

I nodded and dropped my arms. The blizzard would fade shortly, but we would have enough time to get to the other ballista. “Come on,” I said and Zevran and I took off across the courtyard at a dead sprint. He threw a vial of poison into the fast approaching crowd and we held our breath as we plunged into the melee. The darkspawn around us screamed and clawed at their throats, hacking around the poison. The elf and I slashed at the creatures around us until we were through. 

The ballista had a pile of bolts stacked beside it and I let Zevran load it as I defended the platform from several of the creatures we had the attracted the attention of. He fired another bolt and it buried itself in the archdemon’s side. While the creature howled, it didn’t seem unduly affected.

“What does it take to kill this thing?” I yelled, throwing out my hand and shooting a bolt of lightening at a hurlock. 

“Maybe you should go ask,” Zevran shot back, already reloading.

“You first.” I knocked aside an arrow with my sword. We couldn’t keep this battle up much longer. The elves continued to fall under the onslaught of darkspawn, their numbers dwindling down below fifteen. The battlefield was strewn with corpses and those near death. This had to end. Now. 

Zevran growled behind me and I risked a glance back to see him struggling with the firing mechanism on the ballista. “It’s jammed,” he snarled.

“Leave it. I’m thinking this archdemon and I need to have a conversation after all.”

Zevran unsheathed his swords. “I will clear a path,” he said. I went to run forward, but he caught me around the waist and pulled me into a hard kiss. “Don’t die,” he growled.

“Follow your own advice.” We broke apart and ran back down the slope, gaining speed as we dove into the hoard. Both of us released guttural battle calls, screaming and hollering nonsense into the night air.

Zevran carved a swath through the creatures, clearing a path for me as I charged forward, my sword held tight in my hands. The archdemon turned its massive head, looking down at me. For an instant, our eyes met and I could see eternity behind that darkness. Coldness ran down my skin and just for a moment, my feet became tangled together and I stumbled to a stop. Then the contact broke and I was running again. This bitch was going to die.

Its tail lashed out, forcing me to duck and roll. My sword fell from my grasp, skidding away across the stone and disappearing under a pile of corpses. I swore and searched around for another blade. A long curved sword protruded from the corpse of an elf. I ran and snatched it up before continuing my mad dash towards the dragon. It lunged toward me, jaws snapping at me as I fell to my knees. As its neck passed over my head, I jerked the sword upwards into the soft underside of its chin, slicing it down its neck as gouts of blood spilled out, burning where it touched my skin. With bared teeth, I got to my feet as the beast collapsed. Without another moment of hesitation, I plunged the blade into the base of its skull.

A harsh beam of light burst upward. I felt all movement still around me as the light pulled at me, latching onto something deep inside. I screamed as I tried to jerk the sword free, but it was stuck fast in the archdemon’s skull and my hands were stuck to the hilt. Pain ripped across my skin in burning waves, a scorching heat I had never thought possible. It increased until black spots boiled over my vision and I wished I could lose consciousness. Then an explosion ripped through the air, throwing me back away from the body. I hit the ground hard, my skull cracking against the stone and darkness overwhelmed me.

*****

The darkspawn surrounding him suddenly froze, completely forgetting Zevran as they turned in unison towards the archdemon. He followed their gaze and saw Skye plunge a sword into the creature’s skull. Light burst forth and his eyes closed involuntarily as his hand came up to shield them. When the spots cleared he saw her standing over the body, illuminated by the light. He couldn’t see her expression, but he could feel emotion rippling across the battle. Pain, grief, and rage overwhelmed everybody watching and most the darkspawn fell to their knees, howling with pain. They writhed on the ground, their hands clamped over their ears as if covering them against a scream no one else could hear. Then an explosion tore into them, flatting all who weren’t already on the ground.

A long moment of silence stretched over the battlefield, the lack of screams and ringing blades eerie in the sudden stillness. Zevran lifted his head, getting stiffly to his feet. His cuts and bruises suddenly seem to fade away as he searched for her. Instead, he saw Alistair and Wynne rising shakily, the Grey Warden’s arm wrapped around the elderly mage’s waist, supporting her as they limped towards him. The elf looked away from them, his searching growing more frantic until he saw a small form crumpled by the archdemon’s head. 

He ran towards her and crouched by her side. Skye’s face was covered with grime and blood, some of her hair singed. One of her arms was awkwardly bent beneath her, clearly broken. His fingers desperately went to her neck, searching for a pulse. For a moment, he felt nothing and his heart stuttered in his chest. 

Then a weak beat echoed against his touch and he exhaled a ragged sigh of relief.

“Is she alive?” Alistair asked, his voice tight with concern. 

“She still lives, yes. But she will need healing.” He looked over his shoulder at Wynne, who shook her head. 

“I’m sorry. I’m afraid my magic is gone for the time being.”

Carefully, Zevran scooped the elf up into his arms, cradling her to his chest. “It doesn’t matter. The battle is over,” he said quietly. “And we are alive.”


	14. The End

I woke up, something I wasn’t expecting to do. Everything hurt, but I was awake none the less. Memories of the final battle were foggy in the back of my mind. Mostly I remembered a bright light and unbelievable pain, then, nothing. Now, I felt a soft mattress under me, cool blankets covering my body.

My eyes blinked open slowly and the room slowly came into focus. I was looking up at a familiar canopy. I was back in the Arl of Redcliff’s estate in Denerim. Feeling slowly returned to my limbs and I stirred, then felt a hand curled in my own. My head rolled to one side and I saw Zevran dozing in a chair beside my bed, my hand in his. Bruises colored his face and a new pale scar cut its way through one of his eyebrows. A clean white bandage was wrapped around his shoulder. My fingers tightened around his and he jerked awake, whiskey eyes flying open. 

When he saw I was awake, he stilled. “It is good to see your eyes again,” he said.

“I’m surprised to be alive, to be perfectly honest,” I stared, then began to cough, my throat sore and chafed. I dropped my voice to a lower whisper. “It’s a nice surprise.” I paused to cough again. “The others… are they?”

“Everyone survived, as did most of our forces.” He shook his head. “I do not know how, but it was an unprecedented victory. Mostly due to you.”

“What do you mean?”

He looked at me and shook his head. “You killed the archdemon, mi amor. I, at least, thought we were all doomed.”

“You’re such a pessimist,” I muttered.

“My dear, I am a realist and what you did was nothing short of a miracle.” I waved him off weakly, but he captured my hand between his own and kissed the tips of my fingers. “You can deny the feat all you wish, but most of Ferelden knows what you did. You are a hero.”

My lips curled. “I don’t like that word. Far too much attention comes with it.”

“Just know that I am ready to disappear with you at your word.”

I patted his cheek. “You’re sweet.”

“Alistair will be crowned later today. Will you be up to attending?” he asked.

I sat up, trying to ignore my aches. “I think so. I might have to lean on you though.”

He smirked. “You can lean on me all you want as long as I get to leer luridly at you.”

“Leer away.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, my legs trembling slightly as I put pressure on them. Zevran wrapped his arm around my waist and helped me across the room. I probably could have walked on my own, but I like feeling his warmth next to me. It was so different from the scalding heat I’d felt when I killed the archdemon.

I paused before we got to the door. “You know,” I said , turning into him. “We do have a few hours to kill.” I ran my fingers over his chest and looked up at him from under my eyelashes. 

He grinned and leaned down to brush him lips over mine. “I love you,” he murmured and I pulled away, my eyes widening with shock. “Is that a problem?”

“No. I’m just surprised.”

His fingers curled into the small of my back. “Why?”

“Because I love you too.” I pulled him back to me and kissed him deeply. When we pulled away, I took a moment to catch my breath. “So, how shall we fill the hours, ma vhenan?”

He cocked his head at me. “I can think of a few ways.” Gently, he pulled me back towards the bed, my fingers already working on his shirt.

*****

Alistair stood proudly above the crowd, his armor gleaming in the great hall. Anora stood by his side. They made an attractive couple and I had a feeling they would work well together. She was hard, where he was soft. He was one of the people while she could speak the language of politics. As the two of them spoke their vows, my smile widened. Alistiar looked exceedingly uncomfortable under the scrutiny of both his future wife and audience. But he would grow use to the attention and would become a good ruler. 

I glanced sideways at Zevran, the memory of his body pressed against mine still at the front of my mind. A slight blush rose to my cheeks as I smiled at the ground. A hand slipped around my waist, then slid down to my ass.

“Zevran?” I whispered.

“Yes?” He said, not looking at me.

“Are you trying to cop a feel?” I asked.

“Indeed.” He patted my rear end and I rolled my eyes, laughing quietly.

“You are such an Antivan,” I told him. 

“And you, my dear, are so very Dalish.” He brushed him lips over my temple and my eyes shut involuntarily as my toes curled with pleasure. 

“You keep that up and we’re going to interrupt this lovely wedding,” I murmured.

He chuckled quietly. “Keep it in your pants, Grey Warden, you are a public figure now. There is a modicum of decorum to uphold.”

“You are evil.” 

The couple said their final vows and kissed to a rumbling applause from the crowd. They turned to face us, Anora waving, Alistair standing awkwardly by her side. I gave him a thumbs up while Zevran grinned widely at him. He shot us both a dark look, that suddenly transformed into a wicked smile. 

He straightened and stepped forward. “My friends, we are gathered here today to honor those who saved our lands from the Blight. Those that are here and those that are not.” He looked directly at me and I shook my head slightly, hoping he wasn’t about to do what I thought he was going to do. “But there is one I would like to honor above all others.” he spread his arms wide. “I give you the dalish elf, Skye Mahariel, leader of the final charge against the archedemon and the woman who landed the final blow. Your Hero of Ferelden.” He waved me forward and Zevran gave me a little push.

I grumbled low under my breath as I limped up the stairs. Hundreds of eyes were on me and I tried to push down the heat rising to my face. Alistair stood to one side, leaving a place open for me at his side. I stood still, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. 

“You have done so much for Ferelden, my friend. Is there any boon I can grant you?” He was clearly getting back at me for being instrumental in getting him the crown.

I thought long about the question, then realized he was being, at least partly, serious. “I would that the sacrifices made by the Grey Wardens not be forgotten. Not again.”

Alistair looked surprised for a moment, then smiled. “I agree.” He turned to face the assembly. “It is high time we gather together scholars to better understand the darkspawn, for we will face them again. Also, let it be known that the lands that once belonged to Arl Howe will be gifted to Grey Wardens as a base of operations so that they may rebuild.”

There was a quite wave of mutters that ran through the crowd, but the new King of Ferelden ignored them. He turned back to me. “What are your plans?” he asked, words just for me now.

I scuffed my toe against the stone floor. “I think I’d like to see a little bit of the world before I return to my duties. Maybe visit my clan for a short time.” I glanced down at Zevran and Alistair noticed.

“Take some time,” he said quietly. “I’ll stall for you with the Wardens.”

“Thank you,” I said, then bowed deeply. “Your Majesty.”

He rolled his eyes. “There is a crowd of Ferelden citizens outside waiting to get a good look at their hero. You might want to grace them with your presence before they storm the castle.”

“You sure you’ll be able to manage without me?” I asked him.

“I’ll do my best.” He looked over my shoulder at Anora. “I think my… wife will be of great assistance.”

I patted his shoulder. “You two will be very happy with each other. Just maybe get a food taster to make sure she doesn’t try and kill you.”

He grimaced. “Not a terrible idea.” He surprised me by giving me a deep bow, his entirely without irony. “The best of luck to you, my friend.”

“And to you.” I gave him a hug, which brought on another wave of mutters, then left the dais. Most of my companions had dispersed into the crowd, but I immediately made my way to Zevran. He had been captured by several courtiers who were flirting outrageously with him. He, of course, was flirting back and I smiled broadly as I watched him work his charms.

“You were there when the archdemon fell?” one of the young women said, her eyes wide.

“I was so close I felt a fine spray of blood on my face,” he answered, then caught the sight of me watching.  
He smirked and stepped closer to the young woman. “I was so close, I heard its final death rattle.” She breathed in sharply, her hand covering her mouth. “Now if you’ll excuse me.” He stepped around her and walked over to me, wrapping his arm around my waist and dipping me into a deep kiss. I heard several sharp gasps and grinned against his lips as my fingers curled into his shirt. He pulled me back up and let me go. The flirting women had wandered away, leaving us alone.

“I will be relieved when all this pomp and circumstance is done,” he said. “These types of situations present perfect opportunities for assassins after all and I can’t help but expect the Crows to appear at any moment.” He paused. “Which would be a welcome break, mind you.”

“If I see any, I’ll let you know,” I said 

He locked his fingers behind his back and glanced up at where Alistair still stood on the dais. “You told him that you wished to see the world.” He shifted awkwardly on his feet. “There is no better tour guide than a former assassin.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I said. “Though…”

His eyes narrowed. “What?”

“You might have to meet my clan. I would feel absurdly guilty if I didn’t pay them at least a brief visit and they should know that Tamlen found his final rest.”

He surprised me by grinning toothily. “I would not mind learning what you were like as an awkward young girl, all knees and elbows.”

“I was never an awkward girl,” I said, spreading my arms. “I have always been this elegant and well formed.” I tried a curtsey and nearly lost my balance, wobbling wildly on my sore and tired legs.

He laughed, a full bellied sound, and wrapped his arms around me to steady me. I sighed deeply, content to relax in his embrace. My head rested against his chest for a long moment and I felt his cheek press against my hair.

“I never imagined I would feel this way,” Zevran murmured, his words only for my ears. “About anyone. Here, now, I would gladly spend the rest of my time on this earth by your side.”

I pulled away slightly to look up at him. “And if something should happen to me?” I asked quietly.

His lips twitched upwards. “My dearest Warden. The only way something could happen to you, would be if someone paid me an obscene amount of money first.”

I rested my forehead back against his chest. “Glad to know where your loyalties lie,” I said. 

*****

The rest of my goodbyes were quick and painless. That is to say, I didn’t make them. Zevran and I managed to slip away from the celebrations without anyone taking notice, leaving only a brief note on my pillow.

I’ve gone to see the world that we’ve just saved. I’ve seen far too little of it. Besides, there’s this whole matter of the taint to work out. I don’t plan on ending my life as a slavering wretch in the Deep Roads. Should I find anything that might help, I’ll stop by. And, should you ever need me again, good luck with that. I plan on being very hard to find.  
All the best,  
Skye, Hero of Ferelden and undeniable badass.  
Ps Zevran would like you all to know that we totally did it.

*****

The two elves and large mabari looked down at Denerim, the city they had saved less than a week before. Most of it was still in ruins after the Darkspawn invasion, but they would rebuild. And they would be able to do it without the trio. The woman, an elf with starlight in her eyes, hiked her pack higher on her shoulders and turned to look at the horizon and the setting sun. The man standing beside her noticed a quite smile on her face and an answering grin grew on his. The mabari on her other side began panting loudly as he butted against her side. Her fingers ruffled his ears, then she began walking forward, her two companions by her side. As they walked into the lengthening shadows, he laced his fingers into hers and squeezed her hand. Without looking at him, she squeezed back. For the first time in either of their lives, they were completely free.


End file.
